Works of a Lost Soul

/ By rocksanne [+Watch]

Replies: 0 / 1 years 36 days 9 hours 6 minutes 2 seconds

Hello everyone! My name is Rocksanne, and lately I've been in a writing mood, so I decided to start up something I did long ago, and got great responses from it. Years ago, i started to put my writing online, and many seemed to enjoy it. I will have to say that my works tend to be on the darker side, so be warned.

I am also working on a short story, which can be found here:

[center [i Blackness in the Mirror]

Looking at my reflection,
its like using a broken, shattered mirror.
Traits are there,
plain to see,
yet hard to understand.
Each small face of glass,
each small piece,
only shows a portion of myself,
an emotional face i can't make out,
like doing a 200 piece puzzle,
but you only have 100.
In the chaos, one thing is clear,
when your own worst enemy
is staring back at you
in that broken window to your own soul.
It is impossible to get away,
like running from your own shadow.
You can flood yourself with light,
mask the shadow,
but eventually the lights die,
bulbs burn out,
and the shadow returns.
And when night comes,
shadows rule in the land of the dark.
Instead of being just a shadow
its like your in a pool of the dark.
it surrounds you in every possible direction.
Your at its mercy.
With little effort,
like closing your hand into a fist,
that liquid dark engulfs you,
blinding you to everything that's not black,
sliding down your throat
to try to reach that small light of life,
and extinguish it,
making you a part of itself,
an empty shell of yourself,
a vessel of dark, black evil.
Is that a life worth living?
Is it wort seeing in that broken mirror?
Is it worth threading in the muck
to find a grain of that light,
a small ember of a once great, blazing fire,
if there is even one left?]

[center [i Do You Know How it Feels?]

Do you know how it feels
to be suicidal?
Do you know how good it feels
to self harm, cutting?
I used to use it to relax at night
so i could sleep,
do it again when i woke up
because it felt good.
Then do it again at school
in a bathroom stall.
Do you know how it feels
to have your hand drawn to your blade,
like a magnet to iron.
Even with it out of your sight
its still in your mind,
all you can think about,
all you can see.
Do you know how it feels
to want to be dead,
but not doing it
because it would hurt those you love?]

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