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Array ( [sid] => 3503 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Ode To My Razor Blade [time] => 2002-09-07 13:35:09 [hometext] => I wrote this one day as I took my razor blade out from under my bed. I pondered the "what if's" then put her back. [bodytext] => I took you out of your hiding spot,
where I kept you for many years.
I felt safe with you under my pillow,
and I had no more haunting fears.

For you could take them all away from me,
I knew with just a warm embrace.
You knew exactly what I needed,
when I took you from your hiding space.

I had to keep you hidden,
because my mother worries so.
I could not tell her of the pain I was in,
I just could not let her know.

For I did not want to see her cry,
at the pain she would have known I feel.
She played it off as stress many times,
and just told me how to deal.

Remember when I used you all the time,
a prick here and then a slicing kiss.
You laid beside me on the floor,
while the blood flowed from my wrist.

You were always there to comfort me,
to ease the tension that grew inside.
And now I need you more then ever,
so no more time to hide.

Starting with the pointer finger,
I prick each gentle end.
Do your bloody deed to me,
and show me you are my friend.

You move like you are somehow possessed,
across my now blood stained skin.
I feel the torment easing up,
as you slice deep within.

You make your way far up my hand,
and I let the red river run.
A vertical slice along my inner wrist,
and now the deed is done.

We stand together admiring your work,
as the torment in me fades.
And in my final words I whisper,
Ode to my razor blade.
[comments] => 1 [counter] => 216 [topic] => 36 [informant] => Jazz [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Suicide )

Ode To My Razor Blade

Contributed by Jazz on Saturday, 7th September 2002 @ 01:35:09 PM in AEST
Topic: Suicide

I took you out of your hiding spot,
where I kept you for many years.
I felt safe with you under my pillow,
and I had no more haunting fears.

For you could take them all away from me,
I knew with just a warm embrace.
You knew exactly what I needed,
when I took you from your hiding space.

I had to keep you hidden,
because my mother worries so.
I could not tell her of the pain I was in,
I just could not let her know.

For I did not want to see her cry,
at the pain she would have known I feel.
She played it off as stress many times,
and just told me how to deal.

Remember when I used you all the time,
a prick here and then a slicing kiss.
You laid beside me on the floor,
while the blood flowed from my wrist.

You were always there to comfort me,
to ease the tension that grew inside.
And now I need you more then ever,
so no more time to hide.

Starting with the pointer finger,
I prick each gentle end.
Do your bloody deed to me,
and show me you are my friend.

You move like you are somehow possessed,
across my now blood stained skin.
I feel the torment easing up,
as you slice deep within.

You make your way far up my hand,
and I let the red river run.
A vertical slice along my inner wrist,
and now the deed is done.

We stand together admiring your work,
as the torment in me fades.
And in my final words I whisper,
Ode to my razor blade.

Copyright © Jazz ... [ 2002-09-07 13:35:09]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Ode To My Razor Blade (User Rating: 1 )
by Cynthia on Friday, 28th February 2003 @ 11:59:52 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

I hope you still don't feel this way. I would hate to see anything happen to another human being. It would be really bad to do something like this to yourself. Brighter days are ahead my friend. I hope all goes well. *S* Cynthia

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