Make The Echoes Fade

As some of you may already know, I have had issues with self harming and suicide attempts in the past, and even during my teenage years. People often don’t quite realise just how intense the suffering for that person can be for them to have to resort to such extreme measures, and thus that is the reason why I have written Make The Echoes Fade below. The inspiration has come from a frankly amazing description and explanation from a dear cousin of mine, as well as my own experiences. The reason I chose the young girl as the main character in this situation was that I wanted to highlight the vulnerability of the protagonist of the poem and felt that was better served with a young girl than by narrating my past. I hope you’ll enjoy it.

Until next time,
The Raven.

Make The Echoes Fade

It’s here, she could hear the demon’s call,
Nervously, she sat down with her back against the wall,
Tears roll slowly down her left cheek,
She doesn’t really want to do this but feels so weak,
This young girl, staying hidden from sight,
Catches a glimpse of her pale white skin in the moonlight,
She quietly lifts her sleeve, exposing her left wrist,
And closes that hand, making a tight fist,
Within her right hand lies a small blade,
Closing her eyes, she tries to make the echoes fade…

The demon however refuses to sit still,
And soon she is caught within it’s iron will,
She takes the blade and an incision is made,
As the blade rips her skin, the voice begins to fade,
Blood quietly pools upon the floor,
She likes the sensation so continues to cut once more…

With a sigh she places her wrist on the cold concrete floor,
Reminiscing about how life had been so much simpler before,
The pool of blood is now bathed in light,
Both the demon and her rejoice at the sight,
But now is the time for the demon to withdraw within,
As the efforts begin for her to hide her hidden sin…

No one could ever know or understand what she does,
Or why the blade gives her both anguish and a buzz,
She hates herself for what she has done,
But finds comfort in her darkness rather than the sun,
The darkness keeps her hidden from prying eyes,
And from viscous mouths that continually spout lies,
No doubt they would all consider her to be insane,
But none of them can truly understand the complexities of her brain…

The room is clean once more and she yearns for the wound to heal,
However it seems today she cut with a little too much zeal,
Blood still seeps slowly from the jagged laceration,
Staining her sleeves much to her consternation,
“I tripped whilst climbing a tree” she’ll say,
“They won’t ask, after all they don’t care anyway”,
The demon has now chimed in,
And for a minute, the entire room begins to spin…

She places her hands upon her head,
Silently screaming and wishing she was dead,
Unable to even do this right,
Beginning to ponder whether to take flight,
Pondering leaping out of the window the ground below,
Death would greet her, but at least she would be free though,
She always freezes at this notion, at this juncture,
And realises that blood now no longer pours from her puncture,
Relieved, the room stablises once again,
Silently, she pauses and counts to ten,
Seeking sleep, she crawls slowly into her bed,
Happy that she’s silenced the voices in her head,
Closing her eyes, she knows that tomorrow brings pain anew,
But for tonight at least, her pain is finally through…

Written by The Raven –  03/02/2017 ©

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