in the corner,
where i don't want to be,
is this inviting shadow,
to take control of me.
the dark is overpowering,
it lures me right in,
because this is the place,
where i commit my sin.
i hold in my hand,
the blade, razor or knife,
because i can't live without them,
for they control my life.
from left to right,
i tear the skin,
back and forth,
as i cry within.
the tears of blood,
they fall to my sheets.
it's amazing how,
the process is almost complete.
i clean up this mess,
and put my things away.
as i cry myself to sleep,
i wait for a brand new day.
the beginning of the day,
starts a new process.
but hold on a minute,
i have something to confess.
this process has become,
a powerful addiction.
it's not the best,
but it's 'my conviction'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good job... i like this one... ive been in that place before... im glad u mentioned that it becomes an addiction. good write 10/10