Self Harm Poems Short Novels & Stories

It is hard to get my head around , can you hear the voices behind the shadows?My silent plea, my beggings,the scars on me are telling thier stories. I know its selfish to ask for more but this pain is more than fire. My sorrowed heart only holds one name Johan a person it can't seem to find .Behind the shadows i am told time will heal my wounds and that my grief is worth it .Its hard when you find out that you are not as importante to someone as you thought .Imagine cutting your finger the pain, the brief confusion before you notice the blood . See the light grab it all before you experience the darkness life has in store.

So I decided to focus on writing the poem which I imagined so I won't forget when he ask me ! What you have done to me It's not me I'm sure it's not me You're not a perfect match for me you're bad and cruel But who knows you're the most pain baring person Your pain is vulnerable Your pain is invisible You're not the person whom you're portraying to the world You're a kid craving true love to mend your heart I will be your guardian angel in your life of hell I will be light to your dark soul I will mend your heart with a ray of hope called love

The night sky stretches above, clear and star-studded, a canvas of serenity that contrasts with the chaos within me. I've always found comfort in writing, and tonight is no different. The words flow from my fingertips onto the screen, a form of therapy that helps me process the storm of emotions raging inside me. As I jot down a few lines about my situation, the poem takes shape, capturing the essence of my pain and confusion. It's a bittersweet creation, a reflection of the tangled web of emotions I find myself trapped in.

He played with some strands of her straight hair and began, "Okay, so the poem is named I USED TO BE COMPLETELY CRUEL AND HEARTLESS. And it goes like this: I used to be completely cruel and heartless, Using girls, then tossing them aside. I used to feel an angry, bitter hunger, Not knowing why, nor looking much inside. I used to think the goal of life was pleasure: My own, of course, whatever that might take. A woman’s feelings had to be her problem. Self-sacrifice was always a mistake. And so, with just the slightest twinge of conscience, I hunted for my lonely ecstasy; And even when I wanted a companion, The only one I cared about was me.

Bina jurm ke saza milti hai mujhe Kisse kahun ke be-qasoor hu mein Meri khamoshiyon ka sabab hai ye ghum mere Phir kyu duniya samajhti hai ki maghrur hu mein Aaj phir shiddat-e-ghum ne rula diya mujhko Aaj lagta hai zakhmon se chur chur hu mein" (I am alive but not living my life, Why am I so compelled today?? I always get punished without doing anything, To whom I say that I am innocent, The reason of my silence is my sadness Then why the world thinks that I am selfish, This sadness again made me cry today, Today I think that I am broken beyond repair) My whole body was numb. Again and again that scene of izzah covered in blood was flashing in front of my eyes. As I remembered no one knew a

His anxious attempts to bandage my wound made me feel dazed. I called out softly, “Ben...” Benedict stayed in character so well and only let out a soft sigh. It killed any hope I had left. “El, you’re doing it again. It’s me, David.” He looked at me with a mix of frustration and reproach. “Benedict is gone. Why do you keep doing this to yourself? Stop being so reckless. You’re soaked. Let me get you changed.” As he spoke, his hands naturally moved to undo my buttons.

"Self-harm is not a disease. It's a spell that is cast on us in the weakest moments." [Jacqueline] .... [Jacqueline's pov] Sometimes I love that time passes. That it won't stop for anyone. Because sometimes getting through a night alive is the most audacious thing. Like last night I felt the need to just kill myself. The need to remove the pain of these sufferings. Is death that horrible? Or is it because people have never been able to get through the real hidden secret of it that they blubber against deaths. Have you ever felt that? The feeling of just get the day over. So you won't have to stay in the same place that is hurting you? Huh. What I am even asking, everyone, does feels that. No

She finished the song, but was still asleep. Romero and everyone had been woken up from the singing and came downstairs. By the time they got dressed and downstairs she was singing and playing a different song “Finding refuge in my own lies…How are you? i’m doing alright…small talk is a great disguise…just let me be…just let me be…empty thoughts start to crowd my mind..am I only living, living to survive?..shake it off, but I’ve lost the drive…just let me be…just let me be…let me be okay…No one knows what goes on up inside my head…there’s a new kind of poison and it’s starting to spread…no one knows what goes on up inside my head…they don’t think I need help..but I’m scaring myself…I just wa

Vin. My heart feels empty. I feel so much weaker than I have ever felt before. I will never be Vincenzo again. I am nothing but broken. Oh! God. Just why? Why her? Why couldn't it be me? I tightly hold my head and throw the bottle of whiskey on the ground and watch it break in pieces. I have drowned myself in this shit but it isn't helping. It causes my head to hurt. I longingly stare at one shard that looks longer and sharper. It will only take me minutes at most, and I will never hurt again. That one minute will take me to the same place she is right now. Our promises don't count anymore.

…Cause the cure is found in you, I don't want it, but I do… You're my problem and my solution at the same time. …You're just like poison My affliction, I'm addicted, I can't lie… But everything about us is a lie. The only person I can't lie to is myself. …Kiss me one more time before I die… Kiss me one more time before I leave..."