Phases

Aimed at the Psuedo-Depressed, who literally wear their emotions on their sleeves. Or lack therof.

Blunt, scratching
Paper clips bite;
Etching suicide letters
On limbs.
  Arms and legs
Grafted onto sickly wraiths.
You wanna pity them?
The ones who just love to hurt?
The Dark, the Reclusive, the Bitter -
Drenching their bodies
  In a new war paint,
Crying for salvation - understanding -
Through the sunlight.
Through makeshift wire knives,
They carve superficial please for attention.
Writing their own obituaries,
While humming joyous madrigals of sorrow.
Don't you want to hug them?
Dry their Visine tears?
Then succumb and join the thriving cult;
Carving the mantras into a leg.
  It's the… 
  cool thing to do.

Author's Note

Wrote the original draft of this when I was 15. Have to credit an old friend for turning it into what it is now - his edits made it way better than my own version. So much better that I'm interested in changing it again, making it my own again - critiques welcomed.

Reviews

[Crazy Cat Man]

what a dark piece....reminds me of Amy Winehouse...she even video recorded cutting up herself.... you are a poet..

[Shaun R. Kilroy]

My favorite part is:

Writing their own obituaries,
While humming joyous madrigals of sorrow.

It has a real nice flow for the subject matter.

[V]

sweet...I have tattoos...I feel so...dirty. No that was awesome, i like it...you have some real talent girl. i am gonna read some more