Even I question my inspiration lol
I think it's
meant to be a song,
very dark, inspired by
Nightwish/Pink Floyd.
~L.~
Fingers of bad memories won't let me be,
A decade on your abuse still haunts me,
Only a child, You raped flesh of your own,
Make-believe were tales of a loving home,
Alcohol and drugs killed any love you once owned.
Razor Cutting lets me know I'm still alive,
Leeching the tainted blood is how I've survived.
Jaggered wrists of white skin,
So much pain, Where to begin?
Lift the razor, cut the flesh,
Release my soul, A long time dead,
Fly me away in Death's river of red.
In body I am grown,
But my hostaged soul you still own
In mind, only a child still,
No matter how much blood I spill,
I still hurt, Whole I don't think I ever will.
Leeching the tainted blood is how I've survived,
Razor Cutting lets me know I'm still alive.
Jaggered wrists of white skin,
So much pain, Where to begin?
Lift the razor, cut the flesh,
Release my soul, A long time dead,
Fly me away in Death's river of red.
15/06/09
Poetry by liz munro
Read 607 times
Written on 2009-06-15 at 06:52
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
I think it's
meant to be a song,
very dark, inspired by
Nightwish/Pink Floyd.
~L.~
Razored Flesh Tainted Red
Fingers of bad memories won't let me be,
A decade on your abuse still haunts me,
Only a child, You raped flesh of your own,
Make-believe were tales of a loving home,
Alcohol and drugs killed any love you once owned.
Razor Cutting lets me know I'm still alive,
Leeching the tainted blood is how I've survived.
Jaggered wrists of white skin,
So much pain, Where to begin?
Lift the razor, cut the flesh,
Release my soul, A long time dead,
Fly me away in Death's river of red.
In body I am grown,
But my hostaged soul you still own
In mind, only a child still,
No matter how much blood I spill,
I still hurt, Whole I don't think I ever will.
Leeching the tainted blood is how I've survived,
Razor Cutting lets me know I'm still alive.
Jaggered wrists of white skin,
So much pain, Where to begin?
Lift the razor, cut the flesh,
Release my soul, A long time dead,
Fly me away in Death's river of red.
15/06/09
Poetry by liz munro
Read 607 times
Written on 2009-06-15 at 06:52
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Stan Cooper |
Rapscallion |
Texts |
by liz munro Latest textsBlind, DeafLove stormy heart Soul Earthquake(pan tou m) Fate. My favoritesHurtingJourney man Rainy day thoughts Birds song The Sorry Poem |
Increase font
Decrease