Self Harm isn’t romantic
it’s not poetic
it’s hard
it hurts

How much do you have to hate
yourself before you start
cutting
yourself
your thighs, your wrists, your own skin

How long do you have to cut yourself before
people stop looking at you as an
“Attention seeker”
and as someone who needs help

How deep do you have to cut until
all the sadness pours out of your skin

I used to think that the more lines I
could make appear on my skin
the more I would
feel better
feel real
feel

How far can I cut without someone seeing?
is today a “Do I wear bracelets or a sweatshirt day”?
or both?

Blade after blade
cut after cut
blood and more blood
and more blood and more blood

Why did I ever think this was something I
could control?
Mental health is not meant to be dealt with
alone.
My body is not an old piece of paper I can
just cut up when I want to be done with it.

My body is the battleground of the war between
my head and my heart
I see it everyday
the way the old scars turn into a light white and
the new ones flake like paper cuts

But I’m learning to love how the scars makeup the art that
my legs and wrists are
There will be a day where the scars will fade away fully
and all that will be left is the art that my whole body will be

you know when you wake up from a nightmare and you’re
sweating frantic terrified
you feel like you’re going to ***** your own heart
that is what is feels like living in an abusive home
always on
E D G E

who’s going to come through my door tonight?
the alcoholic? Who only came out when the drug addict was gone
the drug addict? Who only came out when the alcoholic was asleep
the infant? Who came every night for bedtime
or the depressed brother? Who only came when he was lonely

sometimes I’d look outside and see the trees fly in the wind
hoping that someday the wind would take me
but then I remember the infant
and the brother
and it brings me back to my bedroom where I am forced to stay
because me leaving for my safety
would be their safety leaving

and I can’t
so I stay
and I sweat frantically
waiting
until I see who will come through my door