Has she Always Figured you’d Turn Out to be a Disgrace?

I saw you unravel yourself

before your mother,

Cut open the smooth

skin on your stomach

with a blade,

Burrowing it deep inside,

Lovingly hooking

your thumbs into

the incision,

Pulling wide open

so she can see

your intestines,

your muscles,

your ligaments,

your organs,

your bones.


This decaying flesh,

festering meat

that sustains your life,

your being.


You pulled the skin

on your left side

all the way off,

So she could see your ribs

and your heart beating

with a frenzied symphony

of a hummingbird in flight,

When you pulled your ribs aside

breaking in the process,

You grabbed her hand

and pressed it against your heart,

She doesn’t hide her repulsion

as the organ whose sole mission is

keeping you alive

bleeds over her hand,

But you don’t notice

because your soul is too busy

screaming at hers;

Feel her breathing!

Feel her life!

Her existence! as

it slows down,

beats regularly, normally, habitually.

As you whisper to her;

You are the shadow of my life,

You are the being of 

my dead meat of a skeleton,

You are the reason 

I refuse to tie a rope around my neck

and hang.


So many things to say,

So many things to ask,

So many things to do,

So many options to choose from,

But all that comes to her mind is;

aren’t you too young to be suicidal?


~Eli Winters





Self-Destructing Validation

I don’t want to admit to God

that I’ve fallen.

In despair in loneliness in madness,

“You’ll never go to Heaven!”

I know.

Validation of my name

on God’s scorched and parched lips is


I’ve ever wanted,

Everything I’ll never have.


~Eli Winters


(all the rights to the picture go to the respectable owner!)

Meaningless Shadows Intertwined With My Existence

Mother told me to stop looking for shadows,

they were dead, they were gone, they were not there at all.

It’s okay I said, as she tied a yellow ribbon round

and round my wrist and throat.

What is okay? I don’t know. Something must be. Or must be not.


One time I pulled my fingernails in the closet.

One by one, they slid off with ease and punctuality.

I gathered all ten of them,

put them into a matchbox.

Slid it into my pocket and sat down on the floor.

Blood welled from my fingers so I put them all into my mouth.

Suck out the pain, suck out the hate, suck out the regret.

Salt intermingled with rust as mother came in.

What are you doing?

I shook my head,

she sighed,

I lost,

she won.


You have to keep the bandage on, the doctor said.

To make sure they’re there bite your fingers every night.

Pain reminds you’re here, alive, existing, doesn’t it.

You have to make sure they don’t float, disappear, vanish.

Right along with your existence.

I nodded my head.

That’s a good girl.


~Eli Winters


*I got the picture from some website I don’t remember so all rights for the picture go to the rightful owner!*

Dancing With the Blade

*I do not own the picture/image, all rights go to the owner, whom I do not know, I just got this picture of off Tumblr some months ago. If someone here owns it or knows the owner, just mention it in the comments so I can give them the credit*



sharp pain

wrapped in the skin

of your own hands.


When did you start

looking for release

in mundane objects

in objects meant

to be


for something else.


When did you start

using Band-Aids




to hold your

dead meat

of a body



When did you start

hiding shirts,

ripping pillowcases


and stuffing them into

your backpack

and carrying them around

all day, feeling guilty if

anyone sees

your dirty evidence.


When did you start sleeping

with your arm

pressed tight

against your bare


feeling it burn

feeling it throb,

not caring because then

at least

you can escape

having to carry that

dirty evidence around

the next day –

even if it means

waking up

with blood stains

over your stomach, sides.


Tell me when you started to

carry paper towels

and cotton wipes

and toilet paper

to escape mishaps

and questions

and confrontations.


Tell me when you stopped


in God

in angels

in crosses.


Tell me when you stopped


for suicide prevention quotes, anti-suicide songs and movies

for things that make your life worthwhile,

for things that make you want to hold on to this

life of yours

tell me tell me tell me.


Is it perhaps when holiness was sapped from your own bones?

Tell me, I’m dying to know.


~Eli Winters



Surrounded by Voices of Your Forefathers


The screams of yesterday,

The wails of tomorrow,

The moans of today,


Surrounded by voices,

Never ending, never breaking,


Buzzing like bees,

Meowling like kittens,


Don’t feel and you’ll forget how to scream,

In the end, there are so many people that have

Sounds trapped in bodies that

Sometimes forget how to speak,



~Eli Winters

Tainted Shadows of the Godless City

***image taken from site; File:Mariyatsu-Castle Shiroyama-Jinjya Torii.JPG***


Skyscrapers cut crudely into the sky,

Bleeding it a crimson red.

She knows there won’t be a star in sight

When darkness falls,

Dropping like a curtain after a spectacular show,

The city lights are just damn too bright,

Damn too feverish,

Damn too wretched.



The college student among the buildings,

Collides with everything because there’s just too much,

People, buildings, garbage cans, life.

Let’s escape to the seaside park,

With its never ending sea,

Whispering age old secrets, songs, magic, mysteries

To the exotic serpent life, the conch shells, the sand,



Watch as she runs down the beach and into the water,

There would be time for other things

Sometime between the folds of adolescence and sanity,

For now,

Let her gaze out into the dark blue sky,

The horizon mapped with skyscrapers of Kisarazu,

And just live.


~Eli Winters