Description: I don't cut myself anymore, but a lot of the time, when i think back on what i was thinking and feeling, its like i can almost feel the blade again... and to fight the temptation, i write. Tell me what you think. Don't bash it, just give me your thoughts and what you think i could do to improve it. There are some parts that i feel don't flow that well.
Once Upon A Time... -------------------------------------------
Once upon a time
The midnight drawings didn't show
I didn't have the scars
But perfection couldnt say no
My silver pencil is sharped
But firmly in it's place
Red paint has spilled
Nothing but a trace
Once upon a time
The canvas was pale perfection
Angry red lines
Are the choice of infection
Smooth, deep strokes
Intoxicating till the end
Sever the regret
Till canvas and paint blend
Once upon a time
I used to create
I designed the imperfections
Until my body crawled with hate
My body is my canvas
And i paint what i feel
Once the paint dries
Scars will reveal
Once Upon A Time...
I used to be alive
I painted myself to death...
Waiting for the end to arrive
Most cutter poems are all the same, but you made this all your own with an engaging rhythm and the wording had a rather whistful tone that softened the blow of their meaning, making the poem easier to digest. This is a surprisingly commen problem among young people, which just goes to shopw you how much the worl needs help. " My silver pencil is sharpened" would better begin the second stanza, but that's all I can think of for now.
Submission Name: Once Upon A Time...
