Self Harm Poems (an Effective Tool Towards Recovery)
This collection is for you if you’re looking for the greatest collection of poetry on self-harm. You could be upset or triggered by this collection of poems. Please read this self harm poems carefully. You are not alone if you or someone you know is going through a difficult time or is battling with suicidal or self-harm thoughts.
Resumé
Razors pain you;
Rivers are damp;
Acids stain you;
And drugs cause cramp.
Guns aren’t lawful;
Nooses give;
Gas smells awful;
You might as well live.
Rhyme Against Living
If wild my breast and sore my pride,
I bask in dreams of suicide;
If cool my heart and high my head,
I think, “How lucky are the dead!”
The Suicide
White, I lie
On the remains of an amusement park
Between jagged buildings –
Burning flower… shining sea…
Toes and hands
Reach out into emptiness.
Longing tears the weeping body to pieces.
The little moon glides above me.
Eyes grope
Gently into the deep world,
Sunken hats
Wandering stars.
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I Measure Every Grief I Meet
I measure every Grief I meet
With narrow, probing, eyes –
I wonder if It weighs like Mine –
Or has an Easier size.
I wonder if They bore it long –
Or did it just begin –
I could not tell the Date of Mine –
It feels so old a pain –I wonder if it hurts to live –
And if They have to try –
And whether – could They choose between –
It would not be – to die –I note that Some – gone patient long –
At length, renew their smile –
An imitation of a Light
That has so little Oil –I wonder if when Years have piled –
Some Thousands – on the Harm –
That hurt them early – such a lapse
Could give them any Balm –Or would they go on aching still
Through Centuries of Nerve –
Enlightened to a larger Pain –
In Contrast with the Love –The Grieved – are many – I am told –
There is the various Cause –
Death – is but one – and comes but once –
And only nails the eyes –There’s Grief of Want – and grief of Cold –
A sort they call “Despair” –
There’s Banishment from native Eyes –
In sight of Native Air –And though I may not guess the kind –
Correctly – yet to me
A piercing Comfort it affords
In passing Calvary –To note the fashions – of the Cross –
And how they’re mostly worn –
Still fascinated to presume
That Some – are like my own –
I Shall Not Care
When I am dead and over me bright April
Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,
Tho’ you should lean above me broken-hearted,
I shall not care.I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful
When rain bends down the bough,
And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted
Than you are now.
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The Suicide
A shadowed form before the light,
A gleaming face against the night,
Clutched hands across a halo bright
Of blowing hair, – her fixed sight
Stares down where moving black, below,
The river’s deathly waves in murmurous silence flow.The moon falls fainting on the sky,
The dark woods bow their heads in sorrow,
The earth sends up a misty sigh:
A soul defies the morrow!
Suicide
Staring corpselike at the ceiling,
See his harsh, unrazored features,
Ghastly brown against the pillow,
And his throat-so strangely bandaged!Lack of work and lack of victuals,
A debauch of smuggled whisky,
And his children in the workhouse
Made the world so black a riddleThat he plunged for a solution;
And, although his knife was edgeless,
He was sinking fast towards one,
When they came, and found, and saved him.Stupid now with shame and sorrow,
In the night I hear him sobbing.
But sometimes he talks a little.
He has told me all his troubles.In his broad face, tanned and bloodless,
White and wild his eyeballs glisten;
And his smile, occult and tragic,
Yet so slavish, makes you shudder!By William Ernest Henley
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On the Threshold
I am standing on the threshold of eternity at last,
As reckless of the future as I have been of the past;
I am void of all ambition, I am dead of every hope;
The coil of life is ended; I am letting go the rope.I have drifted down the stream of life till weary, sore oppressed;
And I’m tired of all the motion and simply want a rest.
I have tasted all the pleasures that life can hold for man.
I have scanned the whole world over till there’s nothing left to scan.I have heard the finest music, I have read the rarest books,
I have drunk the purest vintage, I have tasted all the cooks;
I have run the scale of living and have sounded every tone,
There is nothing left to live for and I long to be alone.Alone and unmolested where the vultures do not rave,
And the only refuge left me is the quiet, placid grave;
I am judge and jury mingled, and the verdict that I give
Is, that minus friends and money it is foolishness to live.In a day or two my body will be found out in the lake;
The coroner will get a fee; and the printer get a ” take ” ;
The usual verdict — ” Suicide, from causes yet unknown. “
And Golgotha draws another blank, a mound without a stone.To change the usual verdict I will give the reason now,
Before the rigid seal of death is stamped upon my brow.
‘Tis the old familiar story of passion, love and crime,
Repeated thru the ages since Cleopatra’s time.A woman’s lips, a woman’s eye — a siren all in all,
A modern Circe fit to cause the strongest men to fall;
A wedded life, some blissful years, and poverty drops in
With care and doubt and liquor from whisky down to gin.The story told by Tolstoi in comparison to mine
Is moonlight unto sunlight, as water unto wine;
The jealous pangs I suffered, the sleepless nights of woe
I pray no other mortal may ever undergo.But I’ve said enough, I fancy, to make the reason plain —
Enough to show the causes of a shattered heart and brain;
What wonder then that life holds not a single thread to bind
A wish or hope to live for, an interest in mankind.Already dead but living, a fact that I regret,
A man without desire excepting to forget;
And since there is denied me one, why should I linger here,
A dead leaf from the frost of a long-forgotten year?So au revoir, old cronies; if there’s a meeting place beyond,
I’ll let you know in spirit, and I know you will respond;
I’m going now, old comrades, to heaven or to hell;
I’ll let you know which shortly — farewell, a long farewell.
Words unlike everyother tool, are able to permeate into the narrowest crevices of hurt- even more, words directed towards recovery.
Do you know anyone in need of this medicine, share it with him/her. We look forwad r=to reading how it has been effective.
