As you slit your pale wrist that night,

the drops that fell told something to your heart,

the blood has escaped your prison, oh dear,

but what of the pain that ripped you apart?


Don’t you ever laugh, at the chaos inside?

A home you called yours, ruined and stolen.

You don’t live there, not your soul anymore

but someone you’ve never known, theΒ you who’d fallen


You smile with the tears, for how could you not

be grateful to the one, that never left you alone?

The windless chimes tinkle in this room,

even silence speaks to you, for no one has ever shown.


Lonely you were called, as if it was your name

you tried to pull off those ears, to stop hearing at some days

but if this ever worked, you’d know the next thing you’d do

you’d pull and lock your heart, and stare at the key you just threw.


If there’s ever another light, that wakes you up at night

you sing yourself to sleep, drinking your tears as you weep

You count the drops of blood, that fell from your pale wrist

you didn’t need the light no more, it was darkness that you missed.



3 thoughts on “Slit

  1. π•Ύπ–π–—π–Ž π•½π–†π–‰π–π–Šπ–˜π–π–“π–†π–“π–‰π–˜π–“ π•΅π–š says:

    hello Harsh.. how are you ?


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