Kiara, the character speaking in this particular poem, is very, very mentally unstable. She is extremely depressed and the poem may trigger if you have a history of self-harm, or you have severe depression. If you do not wish to read such material, turn away now. I am not joking or exaggerating when I say that this poem is very harsh, very realistic, and extremely triggering. I am also not joking (or being a hypocrite because I'm now 18) when I say you have to be 18 to view this piece. It is not a negotiable issue.
I hope you take from this what I intended: I hope you are more aware of how much of an issue depression and self-harm really are. I hope you, having gotten a glimpse into the mind of someone who self-harms, will be more equipped to handle a situation of that sort or at least notice when it is an issue. I hope, since I have written far more than just this one, that you see the diverse ways it can affect someone.
This is a fictional person, but the situations she faces and the emotions she feels and the disorder she has are all very real things.
Once again, I will remind you:
YOU MUST BE 18 OR OLDER TO VIEW THIS PIECE.
Please... (erm) be aware.
"Maybe makin' me bleed would be the answer that could wash the slate clean" -Britt Nicole, When She Cries.
It's so beautiful,
don't you agree?
This bright crimson
against sun-kissed skin.
"I can fake a smile. I can force a laugh. I can dance and play the part if that's what you ask. Give you all I am. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it... But I'm only human, and I bleed when I fall down. I'm only human and I crash and I break down..." -Christina Perri, Human.
I know you don't agree.
You think it's nasty,
"disgusting" was your exact response,
but that's okay.
Not everyone views this as art,
but I see it as a
s p l a s h
of color on a clean canvas.
Beauty
is
e v e r y t h I n g
in
this world,
Isn't it?
And this red...
this crimson...
trickling
flowing
gushing
over my skin
is
B E A U T Y
at its finest.
It feels so good,
just to let go,
feel it all flood
out.
All this blood...
"I would hold you in my arms... Thank you for all you've done, Forgive all your mistakes. There's nothing I wouldn't do to hear your voice again..." -Christina Aguilera, Hurt.
Ironic, isn't it?
This blood that I couldn't look at
a few months ago
is now art in my eyes.
But it's different now!
This crimson beauty isn't pain
and it isn't loss,
this is understanding and sympathy.
this is escape and relief...
it's help...
it's saving me.
Well, maybe it's killing me.
But it's so gorgeous...
who cares?
blood
bleeding
cutting
escape from myself
escape from my life
Slashing art upon a human canvas.