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Jenna

I’m Hurting

Copyright Jenna

It helps and it doesn’t.
It hurts and it doesn’t.
And yet it’s there, always,
haunting, waiting and wanting.

There’s no escape from the escape,
A black hole sucking you inward.
As red rage rises, the addiction calls
And quickly a scarlet trickle soaks through.
Slowly the inner screams fade…

Ah, the sweet release from the pain
As the emotion evaporates with the tears.
But then reality floods in,
And conscience pangs with guilt.

Days may pass in silence,
With condemnation in invisible eyes.
Cut off from those well known faces.
They seem to know you but cant see you,
Or the secret you hide under the protection you wear.

The disfigurement of past mutilations,
The only sign of your true sorrow.
People try to use words that no longer have meaning,
Try to put explanations to actions.
Why can’t they just see what’s in front of their eyes?
Just simply… I’m hurting.

Crimson Tears

Copyright, Jenna

Jenna writes:

As most of you are, I’m just a normal girl like the rest of you out there. And as a person of your common interest, I too find comfort in this common problem. It’s not something I’m proud of, but I’ve grown acustomed to the scars and marks of my past, present and maybe even future. I just feel the need to tell all of you out there that though you believe you will never posess any “good” qualities, I know you already do. Pain is not inevitable, if it were, the world would be a very different place. I know I’m not perfect, and I feel the same hate for myself as you all do also. But I know that some things are worth living for. I’m often told that I am a very beautiful girl, and have many options for the future with not only that, but also with my academics. But throughout my teenage years (so far) I’ve never reached beyond my hate to look. My point is, beyond all of the hate and anger of your mind, you all are very gifted intelligant people. Just take the time to look for yourself, you will find it. I know you will…

The vast difference in her tone startles herself. What once was happieness is now gone. All that remains are the pain and suffering of her confused soul.

The guilt and failure the world has laid amoung her shoulder are slowly breaking her heart. As she feels her world crumble, as many times before.

As she starts to fade, her deepest thoughts are of the crimson tears running down her pale skin, as she wonders off into her secret world one last time.

As she wakes, mearly fighting, she searches her mind for an answer. Wondering wheather these crimson tears will be her last, as a tear forms from beneith her deminishing mask…

Untitled

Copyright, Jenna

A self-inflicted flesh wound
Hardly seems wrong or dangerous right now.
Emotional distress and physical pain
Tend to cancel each other out,

So as the water surrounds me,
Dressed in nothing but my skin,
I grasp the razor, pull it fast,
Hands in awkward positions as I
Feel the metal sinking in.

Such warm relief!
The water around me caresses my skin
As the pain soothes my aggravated mind.
The hot red life flows out of me,
The crimson delta shoots out in delicate swirls
And diffuses into the water.

Half an hour, I sit alone.
It’s getting cold, I’m feeling old, I’m going home
Wearing nothing but my skin.

 

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