I hold my anger in my hands.
My eyes are burning red.
As I burn another line.
This pain is almost bliss.
As I watch the crimson tears flow.
My mind floats away.
I am no longer here.
As I burn another line into my flesh.
And more crimson tears flow.
I am so high.
I have escaped.
At least for now.
But I don't care about that right now.
The devil in my mind is released.
I burn another line into my flesh.
Watching all the crimson tears trace lines down my arms I feel so euphoric.
I can dance on the air.
I swallow some tears.
The taste is hypnotic.
All my cares and woes all melt away.
I am addicted to this feeling.
I swallow this pain.
Beautiful pain.
The lines on my arms.
I drift off.
The dark of sleep takes me.
When I awake I see the fresh wounds.
And look at all the scars.
Those caustic feelings come rushing back at me.
Where's the euphoria now?
As I feel the pain from my self-inflicted wounds.
My mind focuses on them.
That's the pain I'd rather feel.
I'm hoping to escape from the hell I am living in.
I just want to feel something other than that pain.
That pain is eating away at me.
I don't want to die.
But I don't want to live dead either.
God please hear me.
Are You there?
I just want all this pain to go away.
Will You take it away, I don't want it any more?
I'm reaching out to You.
Take these scars and make them beautiful.
Make me beautiful.
Can You do that for me?
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY
PSALM 25:16-18m
Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.
The troubles of my heart have multiplied; free me from my anguish.
Look upon my affliction and my distress.(m)
My eyes are burning red.
As I burn another line.
This pain is almost bliss.
As I watch the crimson tears flow.
My mind floats away.
I am no longer here.
As I burn another line into my flesh.
And more crimson tears flow.
I am so high.
I have escaped.
At least for now.
But I don't care about that right now.
The devil in my mind is released.
I burn another line into my flesh.
Watching all the crimson tears trace lines down my arms I feel so euphoric.
I can dance on the air.
I swallow some tears.
The taste is hypnotic.
All my cares and woes all melt away.
I am addicted to this feeling.
I swallow this pain.
Beautiful pain.
The lines on my arms.
I drift off.
The dark of sleep takes me.
When I awake I see the fresh wounds.
And look at all the scars.
Those caustic feelings come rushing back at me.
Where's the euphoria now?
As I feel the pain from my self-inflicted wounds.
My mind focuses on them.
That's the pain I'd rather feel.
I'm hoping to escape from the hell I am living in.
I just want to feel something other than that pain.
That pain is eating away at me.
I don't want to die.
But I don't want to live dead either.
God please hear me.
Are You there?
I just want all this pain to go away.
Will You take it away, I don't want it any more?
I'm reaching out to You.
Take these scars and make them beautiful.
Make me beautiful.
Can You do that for me?
SCOTT DAVID BUCKLEY
PSALM 25:16-18m
Turn to me and be gracious to me, for I am lonely and afflicted.
The troubles of my heart have multiplied; free me from my anguish.
Look upon my affliction and my distress.(m)
I've tried that a few times, it felt good, bit in the end I asked myself, was it worth it? I had/have to face the pain and understand why things are the way they are. Sometimes escaping isn't the best way to deal with a problem. I live in a world where I am trapped in an invisible cage by my Mom and people look blindly and chastise me whenever I chafe and complain. Blogging is a great way to confront the pain. Just keep blogging. You'll find it more fulfilling than cutting. Thanks for sharing your story. You're a great inspiration to me. Just keep doing what you're doing. I admire your courage and honesty.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the kind encouragement.
DeleteThis poem wasn't just based on me, but a collection of people I've come into contact over the last few years. I wrote this to maybe empower and inspire people.
Exchanging one pain for another pain just doesn't work, maybe at the moment, but in the long run, the original pain is still there.
I too feel like a ghost, people look right through me as if they don't know I'm there and only realize that i am there is when I act out.
Although my mother is my greatest support, she's the best listener.
You stay strong too, and God bless.
Scott thank you for sharing with the lost how they may receive true love and care. Through Christ. Keep up the good work my Brother in Christ.
ReplyDelete"The lost" is not a term I would ever use. I find it judgmental and condemning. Not that I'm saying that you are, for that would be judgmental and condemning. Just saying.
Delete