Sunday, January 02, 2005
A poem.

The Flirt 

 

She flirts with disaster

she flirts with despair

she flirts with the loss of all hope and all prayer 

 

she flirts with red lines on the tip of a knife

she flirts with the loss of all hope for a life

 

She stands with the wrong man

she stands with the lost

she stands for mistreatment, whatever the cost

 

She stands for the faithless

she stands for the past

she stands on the edge of a small shard of glass

 

She thrives on the vision

she thrives on the pain

she thrives on destruction of self for no gain

 

She strives for the answer

she strives for some hope

she strives for some insight on just how to cope

 

She's blind to all reason

She's blind to herself

She's blind to the way she's put life on the shelf

 

She's blind to the way she's been showered with love

The world's only angel, sent from heaven above


Copryright ME 2003



I wrote this for yet another friend of Jamie's. Like so many, she was (is?) a cutter. Like so many, she doesn't see her own worth, because it has been distorted by the value others have failed to put in her. Unfortunately, I know several self-injurers both in "real life" and online, and one thing they all seem to have in common (besides being female), is genuine self-hatred, and a fatalistic attitude. The problem is, no matter how much you try to show them love, and show them that they are valuable and wonderful and worth something, whatever seed that has been planted in their head that they are worthless, is buried too deeply to dig out. I wish there was a way to get through to them, because every one of them that I've met are wonderful women, full of passion and love and beauty. I can see it; why can't they?


Posted at 09:31 am by Greg

Miranda
January 17, 2005   11:24 AM PST
 
wow, that was beautiful, so close to someone I know. Thanks for sharing.
Maroux
January 11, 2005   11:48 AM PST
 
Beautifully written. I loved the rhymes and the smooth flow of words. You've captured the true sentiments of those who cut. I don't personally know anyone who does but have met a lot when I started blogging. More often than not they just need someone to talk to, someone who would understand them and would point out the negative effect of the self-destruction brought by cutting (well that's how I perceive it).

You are such a nice person Greg, you care and it so takes a lot of courage to put that up knowing that it would touch a nerve. Well done hope to read more in the coming days.

Kudos to you!
@};~ Noelle
January 10, 2005   04:04 AM PST
 
Greg,

I finally deleted a TON of pictures in my Photobucket album so I can post more in my art blog. It's just a matter of 'doing' it.

Anyway...here's my take on this gorgeous poem.

You know, Indian's used to cut themselves to ease the pain of guilt and to punish themselves (even if they were hurting themselves for something that wasn't there fault). It's a ritual that has been passed down from the beginning of time.

Males and females do it...but females are much more open and dedicated to cutting for relief (for obvious reasons).

In my opinion, I think people cut themselves to feel pain they can understand. So many things break women emotionally. Sometimes they just want something they can UNDERSTAND...that they have CONTROL of.

For example, they know why they hurt when a blade slices across their arm. But women DON'T know why they are continuously subject to heart-breaking pain...usually brought on by someone that should love them. They want to FEEL something physically hurtful to drown out the anguish of their souls.

Sometimes, cutting is the only thing that keeps women from going over the brink of insanity...or ending life permanently...

Thanks for such an inspiring poem. :o) It's tragically beautiful.

Sincerely,
@};~ Noelle

Jess
January 6, 2005   01:40 PM PST
 
I got some scars from my own experience
Jess
January 6, 2005   01:39 PM PST
 
people cut themselves cuz they think its whats taking away their pain.. they've built it up in their mind that if they see blood and feel that pain that it makes everything go away that was bothering you before.. but you just forget about all that shit cuz your only concentrating on the cutting and nothing else. they know it hurts and that its stupid.. the reason why they continue.. they dont know what else to do... well thats my opinion anyway
Rockchix
January 4, 2005   10:01 PM PST
 
Greg, beautiful, yet troubling poem. Although, I did write one about cutting...I used to cut...not anymore; been able to push down the urges and tried new things to distract myself from the wanting to hurt.

I have a few friends who cut; I don't like it, but I understand to a certain extent, since I was once there myself.

Your words are full of truth; often hard to face, but worth reading.

Take care sweetheart

*hugs*
+sinful+
January 2, 2005   08:18 PM PST
 
mmmm i think i hate it when the truth stares me in the face and i still can't belive it .....

great poem though ... of course it does remind me of someone ....
Lyly
January 2, 2005   09:36 AM PST
 
beautiful poem greg. and i agree with the sentiment. i'm worried about one in particular.
 

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