Blood-Stained Cradle

Warning This poem contains drugs knife guns Murder self harm and lots of shit and stuff yeaaaaaaaaaa Don't read if you do not like that stuff












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Pills spill like teeth from a broken jaw,
Each one a bullet, each one a claw.
They claw at my mind, scrape deep at my soul,
Ripping and tearing, leaving nothing but holes.

The knife in my hand is soaked in red,
Veins split open, the body is bled.
Crimson rivers flow down my skin,
As flesh pulls apart—it's where the horror begins.

I drag the blade deeper, bone snaps with a crunch,
The scent of iron thickens, my demons grow drunk.
The wound is a mouth that screams without sound,
Swallowing blood, it drips to the ground.

A gun lies heavy, its barrel still warm,
Its bite leaves a skull cracked, shattered, deformed.
The splatter of brains paints walls like decay,
Life leaks away as the blackness turns gray.

The drugs churn like poison in my hollow veins,
A slow rot inside, twisting up through my brain.
Skin stretches tight, blood seeps from my eyes,
Every breath feels like I’m gasping through knives.

The cuts on my arms are deep, dark, and wide,
Muscle torn open, no reason to hide.
I watch as the tendons snap with a hiss,
Pain turns to pleasure in moments like this.

Death crawls nearer, its grip cold and tight,
Dragging me deeper into eternal night.
Each wound is a doorway, each breath fades to black,
I slit open my soul, and there’s no coming back.

The reaper, he laughs, his scythe drips with gore,
I’ve fed him my suffering, but he still craves more.
In blood and in bullets, I give him his feast,
Until I am nothing, just a corpse for the beast.
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meh idk thx rat