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My arms are covered in thick jagged scars,
You can tell the wounds probably needed to be stitched but never were,
You can still see where the skin split and the muscle poured out,
And when I walk by people stare,
Wondering how the **** i got them.
The truth is, these scars are proof I’m still alive.

I survived the greatest threat to my life, myself.

What could have caused something so ****? It wasn’t the box cutter that melted my skin like butter, it was the need to feel something when otherwise there was nothing.
I’m sorry if anyone was triggered by this piece.  It’s been over  5 years since I last self harmed and I’m in such a better place. But the pain from that is something I have rarely talked about and really felt the need to express it in words.
Percocet
*******
Xanax
OxyNEO

And god knows what else.
You keep telling me “I’m not high I swear! I’m just tired”
But your lips are tinged blue, you have saliva in the creases of your mouth, your body is frail and sickly looking, your skin so white it’s almost transparent. Your eyes are swollen, glossy, and gaunt, your cheeks are sunken, your hair is tangled and unwashed.

“I’m not high I swear!”

But I don’t believe you. How many times have you said that to me only to confess later that you were, that you found a pill and didn’t have the self control not to take it.

“I’m not high I swear”

Yet you randomly smack your head, blurt out random words and nonsense, forget entire conversations, fall asleep mid sentence.

You said you were clean. But the very next day I get a call telling me that you’ve been arrested for a DUI, you had Xanax and Oxyneos in your toxicology report.

I’m afraid to answer my phone when it rings, I always fear it will be the call that tells me you’ve overdosed.

You said “I don’t need to go to rehab, I can quit myself”
But if that were true, you’d be clean by now. It’s been over a year since you told me you were addicted to pills.
At first it was just a perc or two, and now you are a full blown opioid abuser.

You’ve become the thing you hated most. An addict that can’t admit that they have a problem.

“Im not high I swear”

I can’t count how many times you’ve said that, how many times you lied to my face. So many times I never want to hear those words come out of your mouth again.
But I know I will, and I know I’ll go home and cry after and pray to god you wake up tomorrow.

I just want my best friend back, the kind and honest loving girl you use to be.
I’m tired of the you you’ve become.
The girl that lies, that steals, that is wasting away.

If only you never took that first pill.
Addiction steals everything.
He asked me “aren’t you afraid of being alone?”

I said “how could I be? I’m not even alone inside my head”
God didn’t make me,
For you to break me.
I wish I believed in soul mates,
But that would require me to have a soul,

It’s not that I am cold or cruel,
It’s just if I believed souls were real;
Then i would also have to believe
In reincarnation,

And I’ll be ******
If I have to spend
Another
Lifetime
With
You.
“How come the saddest writes
Seem to get all the likes?”

There’s literally a proverb for that,
Misery loves company;

Even in the 21st century.
I was thinking about this the other day
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