Maybe I'm a little to hurt inside
So I glide the blade along my thigh
Because there's no where left to hide
If I make myself as broken on the outside
Then maybe I won't have any tears left to cry
Maybe I can die
So the world can tell my lie
Of a life with no bright side
All that's left is my bleeding thigh

I know I should be sorry
I know I should feel bad
Because here I am doing the thing
I said I'd never do again.

I said I wouldn't hurt myself
But that's been ******* all along.
The only thing that kept me clean
Was knowing that if I slipped
I'd be hurting more than just me.

But now I'm sitting here
Like I have so many times
Tearing at my skin
For a glimpse
Of sweet relief.

In the grand scheme of things
A few small scrapes
Doesn't make a difference.
It's nothing dangerous
And it's not hurting anyone
It's just a way for me to silence
The monsters in me.

I don't care anymore
About taking care of me
I'll do what I want
Even if it kills me.
I'll do what I want
Even if it means
ruining nine months
Of a fleeting fantasy

Impossibilities
What are they?
Are you for sure they’re real?
Are they really impossibilities
Or are they things you think impossible
Even though they stare right at your face
Even though they tap on your shoulder
Even though they knock on your door
Even though you hear their screams
Even though you pretend not to notice
Are they impossible?

People will often say
That those who have trouble
Letting others in
Are "guarded".

And maybe that's true
In most cases.
They wear an emotional
Suit of armor
And build imaginary walls
Around their hearts.

I also have trouble
Letting people get close.
But I would not,
In any circumstances,
Say that I am "guarded".

To call someone "guarded"
Insists that they are protected,
Safe from harm.
That's where the word loses its
Relevance to me.

I am not protected.
Not in the slightest.
I wear no suit of armor
And have no walls
Around my heart.

I'm as vulnerable as a baby deer
Who's lost it's mother
And broke it's leg.
I am susceptible
To any and all types of injury.

I am not safe from harm
Or impervious to heartbreak.
In fact,
I'm fragile.
My heart is brittle
And will break as easily as glass.

I have trouble letting people in,
But I am by no means "guarded".
I have trouble letting people in
Because I am extremely unguarded.

I am not protected or safe,
But I am evasive.
Which is probably
The smartest thing to be,
For people like me.

I run from danger
And emotional intimacy
Because I know
I'm too frail
To handle being mistreated
Or left alone.

After letting myself fall
Over and over again,
I've learned that love
Is not worth the pain
It inevitably causes.

I am done risking
My delicate soul
To feel close to someone.
At least for now,
I don't want to love
Or be loved by anyone.

For now,
I'm still recovering.
I'm still learning how to live
With myself and without the
Infatuation of someone
Who will most likely end up
Being nothing but a memory.

I won't correct you
If you call me "guarded".
But those who do not wish
To be emotionally close
Are not always so hardened.
Sometimes they're soft
And scared of the world around them.