Whether it's a bleeding heart,
Or a bleeding wrist,

There's no doubt that the hurt you possess inside exists

You can't release it , so you release blood & just to grab the attention , that death is your intentions , because people react to blood more than they do tears

I been cutting along the horizon instead of along the y axis of the main artery .. So that's why I never succeeded

I've never been able to let stuff go

And if your seeking my forgiveness, and forgetfulness you've got a long way to go .. A thought is the hardest thing to control..




There was a time when I lost all touch and became numb

Numb to life .. But reactivated my 6 senses because there's nothing worst than a person that doesn't care truth be told They're hurting more than it seems they once cared too much and always seemed to get let down.

From the time I stopped believing in myself I lost interest in written poetic passages and fell for verbal and cyber comments and boosted my confidence .. But my emotions became motionless , I was empty inside , i lost a piece of me when I started cutting my wrist & stopped writing pieces that made s*** make sense .. Hearing the voices in my head , I was next to bedrock , now flipping pages reminiscing and crying over past relationships ,




Only fearing one thing that's insanity , I'm afraid I'll turn out miserable like my grandmother .

Because misery loves company and declaring war in the same family we all bleed the same blood, losing contact with a lot of my family, so you pick the phone up and you call my mother and complain about basic stuff and how your unhappy and no one loves you yeah that's that stuff , me hearing that s*** makes me sit back realize that you persuade my mother , bang my head against the wall

So I got the heck up and wiped the tears off my face and threw that blade away , that haunts me for every hour that passes by .




I committed myself to just picking the pen up . Then writing that stuff down the only bleeding that will take place from now on is from the ink in my pen

I learnt how to let stuff go , so I can now prosper encouragement to be better , while my relatives re enacted the Scarlett letter .




So when I put the blade down and picked the pen up & I got the same rush man that is just as amazing.




This is my letter,

I learned War spelled backwards is raw

So my raw emotions that I feed to my notebook makes this poem I'll , but the key word reversed is

war and in war

I get tired of fighting

But when I don't fight I lose life

Then it seems as if I'm just existing

So if the price of living is fighting then I'll make sure I use all my might

To Prove This Ain't The Final Battle ??

If I die , then atleast I know I didn't go out without a fight ... Leaving kisses under you pillow and hugs under your blankets so you know I've found the brightest light ....