"I think in poetry."Mature

“I want to bleed.”

I want to bleed in any way
Let it out through every day
Rip my skin with blade or nail
Blood pour out, never to fail

I wish I could but I have tried
To get to the crimson inside
And yet my efforts go to waste
And I just give up with great haste…

“I like the feeling of blood on my skin.”

I like the feel of blood on my skin
To paint with it, to rub it in
And getting it from ripping things
Off my legs, my knees, my shins

I like the feel of blood on my skin
Though I wonder if it’s a sin
To break this body for what’s within
With my nails, a knife… a pin.

“Do you think blood is beautiful?”

Does blood hold beauty to you?
It always has to me
Does it change it’s shade on you?
It does on me, look, see.

Is there beauty in my blood?
I do believe there is.
The deep crimson of purest blood?
Be it hers or his.

I need to let this beauty out
To paint across my skin
For what can be art without
Something from within?

“You are not good enough.”

“You’re not good enough Josie.
You’re not good enough for me
You’ll never be good you see”
I guess I’m not good enough.

The End

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