I still remember the first time you rescued me.
You came in like a firefighter rescues a kitten out of a burning building
And I was hooked on you.
After a few turns down the road,
We stopped at a park, and laid on the damp grass.
The twilight was so mottled with stars,
You glowed brighter than the sun.

It wasn’t until the fourth time
You pulled my charred corpse out of the
Smoldering embers of my self-hatred
That you found the ladder of cuts racing up my arm,
Under my sleeve.  
You found the zig-zag maze of slices running through my legs,
Across my belly
And along my ribs.
And you told me that you were the only person who would ever love me.

The fifth time that you saved me,
You took me to the park
And taught me what it really meant to love someone.
Your hand that held against my throat didn’t hurt too much,
And the force between my legs numbed my core.
I could have screamed
I could have said no
But you loved me.

After you married my best friend,
And the second man ***** me,
And my boyfriend cheated on me,
I met the man that made me doubt my definition of love.

*** is not love.
Every time he tries to dig you out of my insides,
You bury yourself deeper into my soul.
But he stops when I start to cry.
He holds my hand.
He touches me, my arms, my scars, and all.
And he sets fire to every self-doubt,
And now I’m the smoke signal of what it means to survive.