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Short poem- "Burn" (Could trig. if it's any good -lol-)
The story behind it seems so much more meaningful than the poem itself. I've been free from S.I. for a very long time now. I've stopped keeping track. But tonight was so absolutely miserable, that I returned to an old habit - I just didn't know what else to do. Anyway, I don't regret it and I don't think I'll continue so I'm not looking for words of encouragement. I just wanted to share this with you all.
After I'd calmed down and laid down for bed, this just came into my head. I jumped up to write it down, and want to know what you all think. I know it sounds like it's about burning, but it's just using that as a metaphor for cutting. It's referring to the burning/stinging sensation that follows a cut.
anyway, here goes:
I like for my skin to burn.
And sometimes...
Well, sometimes you just have to light a match.
So when your skin feels like a matchbox -
itching with sand, torn by glass, and bleeding phosphorus,
Friction is the only release.
And when it's over,
you're left with a quietly smoldering fire,
blistering and burning on the surface of your skin -
The glowing embers of your emotions.
(I hate the last line, feel free to make suggestions. And if you're wondering, sand, powdered glass, and red phosphorus are what make a match ignite when struck.)
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