Blades, Fur, and Blood. - medium poem
This poem was written all the way back in 2011 and edited to make it in the point of view of my main sona, Fane on 5/25/2016. I was a freshman in high school and was experiencing my second wave of severe depression. At the time I was self harming and wanted to describe how it feels to me and in some ways explain why I did. I do not condone self harm of any type. If you do self harm seek help! If you ever need somefur to talk to never be afraid to message me.
Written by me, Fane Star
The blade is cold and sharp.
It slices through my fur and skin
Quick and smooth.
The blood pools.
Dark red soaking my orange and black fur.
My tears can't fall.
They burn the ducts they are stuck in.
Darkness surrounds my heart.
The want for death to emerge
From the deepest parts of my soul.
Again, the blade bites.
More blood gushes and pools.
My arm will always be scarred.
For now it's red from fresh blood.
My arm begins to weaken.
Hope is once again absent.
Again, and again the blade gnaws at my skin, through my fur.
Waves of blood pour onto the floor.
Tears still stuck in my blue and green eyes.
The blade is now warm.
Coated in fresh blood.
A sigh of relief escapes as my vision darkens.
My stress is now forever gone.
Through the blur and the weakness,
I manage one final slice.
Blood streams onto the floor.
The tears finally dry in their ducts.
The blade slips from my weakened hand.
The blood continues to seep as my vision becomes black.
I can greet the nothingness with no more pain.
My body fell, but my soul remains.
To reawaken it's body in the misery of the morning sun.
Written by: Fane Star