Self Harm Poems Short Novels & Stories

"Every now and then I have these melancholic moments that are not good for my spirit, not right now. Luckily, I’m able to pull myself out of this state of mind thanks to my writing. Pouring my heart into my poems, writing about my pain and my anger, makes me feel good, it purifies my tortured soul. It gives me back the courage that I lose every time the only person left in the world who should love me, treats me as if I were a stranger, an instrument to achieve his goals." Under these words, Shawn saw one of Belle’s poems: If I was a simple candle, capable of gradually melting from one end to the other, without second thoughts, touched by some strange magic, I'd like to see my head melt firs

I wondered over and over if Deangelo was even thinking about me at all, even if it was just for ten measly seconds. I could not take the pain of being unnoticed and unimportant anymore. It was like a constant ache in my chest. And now, I had even started to harm myself. It seemed to be the only way I could cope with the pain. The only way I could feel anything at all. I cut myself with razors, watching the blood trickle down my arms. I burned myself with cigarettes, feeling the sting of the flames against my skin. It was a sick and twisted way to deal with my emotions, but it had always been the only thing that helps.

I turn it over, I turn it over I loved and I loved and I lost you I loved and I loved and I lost you I loved and I loved and I lost you And it hurts like hell -Cut by Plumb I’m not a stranger No, I am yours With crippled anger And tears that still drip sore A fragile flame aged With misery And when our eyes meet I know you’ll see I do not want to be afraid I do not want to die inside just to breathe in I’m tired of feeling so numb Relief exists I find it when I am cut I may seem crazy Or painfully shy And these scars wouldn’t be so hidden If you would just look me in the eye I feel alone here and cold here Though I don’t want to die But the only anesthetic that makes me feel anything kills i

I know I need to get better, but inside every day in my head I hammer how useless I am, how much I am trash, that I don't deserve anything good in life, only things that hurt me and make me cry every night. The road is busy, throwing myself in front of a car would be very painful, and this could ruin and delay the lives of other people who have nothing to do with my unfortunate situation. I take a deep breath, sit down on the guardrail of the bridge facing the river and feel the wind blowing in my face, it is calm, a pity my mind is not like that. I feel troubled, haunted, and dark. I remember my mother's words, I should be dead, or rather, I shouldn't even have been born. My chest hurts, I

She’s always tired to keep the bullies away she/s always been the one to be in my corner to tick up for me when everyone else saw me as the fat kid. Then Daniel came along, I have no idea where he came from I was just glad someone other than Kaysey saw me for me and not another fat kid. No one knows about my scars, not even Kasey. I do them where I one else can see them, yes I self harm, I inflict pain to forget pain to forget how those bitches tournament me every single day of my life like I’m worthless. They’ve even got me thinking that Daniel hates me too. They say he’s only around cause he feels sorry for my fat ugly ass. He doesn’t care for me and he would never love someone as ugly as

I’m glad your path crossed with mine And that once upon a time, We looked at one another Like our eyes held the answer To everything Its going to take me Some time to heal, but I know that what we had was real We changed each other’s hearts And you left an imprint on my soul Despite all that lies between us now I hope that you know That a part of me Will always be Holding you Poems were a way that I expressed my soul and vulnerability. I turned around and saw Sam’s figure looming above me. He got into and clutched me as he sobbed slowly. “Are you okay,’’ I asked, worry soaking my voice. “No I am not okay, I have been a bad person to you, I am sorry,’’ he breathed, a drunken slur evident in h

Prologue “Cause I’m not your princess, this ain’t a fairytale,” - White Horse by Taylor Swift I just wish everyone could just be good for a second. I wish everyone could just let me go or let me die. I’ve tried so many times but I still can’t go. Every time I take hold of that small knife, I think about my mate who may be looking for me, who may be waiting for me and I couldn’t do it. I’ve been waiting for him because they said your mate will take you for who you are and love you. I hope my mate will take me for who I am, broken on the inside and on the outside.

I knelt down not caring about the tiny shards prickling my tender skin, just one cut, I thought to myself, just one clean cut, it would all be over. I held onto a handful of glass as tears streamed down my face, oh one cut wouldn’t be enough. One cut wouldn’t help anything, wouldn’t heal anything, I blamed the stupid glass and I blamed God, I blamed everything. I couldn’t kill myself. I was too much of a coward to blame myself.

I smiled. Taking a seat on the piano, I closed my eyes and placed my hand on the keys. Humming the rhythm before I started singing. 🎶It’s not easy to keep a heart warm. When all I can feel is harm. It’s funny how love builds me. Only to leave me broken and defeated. All this pain I feel, it’ll be gone in a bliss. This cold blanket surrounds me. It’ll soon be gone and I’ll find peace.🎶 ~~

A laughing emoji to my nudes being forwarded? I hit the marble floor with my palm, and I curled myself into a ball, crying hard. I wanted the ground to open wide and swallow me. My life has been ruined. Why do I live?!. I stayed there for minutes; I thought of harming myself, but I needed an explanation.