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Array
(
[sid] => 13683
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Chocolate or Blood
[time] => 2003-03-04 00:40:00
[hometext] => This was once me. I obviously did not commit suicide nor have I ever attempted this. I am now cured after a year of therapy. Please do not waste your sympathy on me.
[bodytext] => The rush of blood
That bubbles down My legs grow weak My head pounds I've retraced all the scars or more I've re-cut all these scars before My memory blurs My future seems bleak I don't believe I'll live out the next week Screw living normally Screw smooth, tan arms I'll just cut for one more day It won't do any harm Chocolate has the same allure Fists full of fudge could be my cure I hate these burning cuts and scabs That I am forced to endure On the fifth day of my own self torture I hate having to hide these scars On the fifth day of my own self torture I can't bear the pain anymore I climb up to Medusa's Cliff I take a knife Its blade is stiff I take the knife and slit my wrists For once in my life I make the cuts right The blood empties out And I think to myself "Oh, God this is the end Please recieve my spirit And be gentle for, my Lord, I was decieved The comfort of the flowing blood seduced me very briefly. I couldn't think straight, I still can't and the chocolate didn't help. I suppose I was seduced by the chocolate And the blood When I cut The blood seeped out Salty, corrosive and sweet And whispers "It will be alright, When you go to sleep." Then I nibbled a Hershey bar, and oh my Lord, forgive me, for then I took a little nap And then I cut again." [comments] => 1 [counter] => 149 [topic] => 13 [informant] => poetic_tragedy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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