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Array
(
[sid] => 16035
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Under My Skin
[time] => 2003-04-15 11:35:00
[hometext] => A poem written to express the trials of self mutilation, and to help those who are ignorant to the ordeal better understand.
[bodytext] => I'm afraid of the darkness
But I love the night I stay in the shadows Hid from the light And if the blood should flow from underneath my skin Don't worry, it's just the darkness creeping in Sanity comes at a price More valuable than any advice I only wish I had that kind of wealth I'm a pauper of psychology Growing poorer with every breath In my veins are gold And I am rich Set it free And I will be rich The quiet sounds of living All rush back to me My lifeboat in a sea of insanity And if the blood should flow From under my skin If the drops should stain the rug, yet again And if the tears fall like rain on the desert sand Don't worry, it's just the darkness creeping in Every day is happy Every day is sad Every day is torment And every day is bad The sun is shining somewhere on the earth But not here The darkness has crept in And the blood flows From under my skin The shadows dancing In my mind again They've got their sacrifice And they are content Now that the blood flows From under my skin [comments] => 7 [counter] => 203 [topic] => 13 [informant] => PhoenixPM [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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