In shadows dark, where torment lingers,
I stab my heart on endless repeat.
With daggers sharp, my mistakes as triggers,
To teach myself how to be numb, to beat
The bleeding of my brain, the searing pain.
Oh, the haunted hours, perpetual plight,
As fragments of sanity lie shattered,
I gather the pieces, chase away the night,
Seek solace within realms dark and tattered.
Lost in the abyss, within my mind's abyss.
A specter of remorse, forever haunting,
Through passage of time, its grip won't release.
Each stab a reminder, my past daunting,
Each wound a lesson, yet it brings no peace.
Suffering in splendor, my scars so tender.
For in this twisted dance, a macabre ballet,
I navigate the corridors of my despair.
With every puncture, a plea to numb the way,
To find respite from the pain, a prayer.
To consolidate my thoughts, to reconnect my parts.
But the daggers, they whisper tales of regret,
Their steel, tainted with echoes of remorse.
Oh, how they carve into my soul, and yet,
Their sting becomes the soundtrack of my discourse.
Echoes in the dark, where I left my mark.
And so, I stumble on, in this dance of horrors,
My mind captive to each self-inflicted blow.
Collecting shards, bridging the mind's corridors,
As within this madness, a twisted beauty does grow.
The scars of my soul, transient whispers of control.
©majesty1
M