This is not a poem, but a simple truth I wrote a long time ago.
She cut. She died. The end.
No.
She had a story just like you. She wasn’t some drama queen or attention seeker. She was a real kid with real problems and real issues. Whether you knew it then or not, she was in pain. Everyone has a story and everyone has pain. But some people just don’t have the strength they need to get through the things that hurt them so much. When someone looks to self-harm because of so much hurt, they aren’t trying to **** themselves they are trying to stay alive. This is the only way they get some kind of relief. They see how destructive it is, but it is either do this and live a little longer or die.
Most people are scared of death. Scared to die. Scared of what happens next. But when some people are in so much hurt and pain they stop caring about the fear of death because nothing could be worse than the place they are at. No one understands anyone. No one has the exact same past and experiences and even if two people did they would both react differently. Most people who self-harm are just trying to get a bit of relief because they are scared of themselves and what they could do. They don’t want to die, they just want an escape, relief, or strength. No one wants to feel so bad that they want to die. It just happens and most of the time we don’t have any control of it because no one ever knows.
You knew her. The girl in the hall that you saw before first period and lunch. Always standing alone with long sleeves and her hair in her face. You heard people say things about her and saw the way they looked at her. You witnessed her transition from a cute, outgoing, little girl to a dark, depressed, alone teenager. You saw it all, yet never thought twice. Never stood up for her. Never said hey. It may not have helped much but at least for a moment.
Not everyone that wears long sleeves a lot, isolates themselves, or does different things is suicidal or self-harms. Everyone has secrets. Everyone has a story. Whether you know it or not, there is a story. Even when someone dies, whether natural, accidental, or purposeful, that is not the end. They still had someone. A family member, a friend, a teacher, a boss. Someone who was in their life. The person is not forgotten. Lives could be touched and changed because of that one person even if they are dead. But no matter what, no one deserves to die. No one.
So yes she cut. Yes she died. But no that wasn’t the end.