I need to be saved by someone else, otherwise I might just die.

I decided to wear a short sleeve shirt today since it was hot.
I was going to a church cook out.
I didn’t really want to go, but I did.
I thought it would be fun, I had a good attitude about it.
Something happened though, this guy came up to me.
He said you’re a cutter, he saw my scars and cuts.
I had band aids on them, they were coming off though a little.
He said you’re a cutter and then laughed.
Why did he laugh?
Was it funny to him?
Did he just not know what to say?
I have had people stare at me before.
I have had people comment on my weight.
But no one has said anything about my self-harm scars and cuts.
I guess he thought it was funny.
I don’t find it funny.
I’m glad this day is over.

The child is crying, she is helpless.
People are yelling at her.
She is trying to grab onto her mother.
I couldn’t handle the screaming, I heard a lot of it when I was younger.
I didn’t want to scream; I didn’t want to say anything.
I’m as bad as the people who abused me.
I’m no better I watched her cry, I didn’t pick her up.
I’m so sorry.

The houses line the street, some big and some small.
Beautiful big trees are in every yard, orange and brown leaves falling off of them.
Kids are playing, a little girl is playing with chalk in her driveway.
Another child is learning to ride her bike on the sidewalk, her dad is so proud of her.
I see this girl, she is sitting in her front yard in the grass, she is beautiful.
She is wearing black jeans with a black long sleeve shirt on.
She has a book next to her.
Her eyes look sad, I wonder why?