I have finally quit cutting
But I can clearly remember why I used to
And I can feel the urges to do so
That will never leave
I remember the first time
It scared me and hurt
I blamed the parallel lines
On a cat I didn't have
I didn't like it the first time
I don't remember why I did it again
For a while I never drew blood
I wish I had stopped at that
I quit many times
But with every relapse I got worse
They got deeper
I bled more
The red that dripped down my skin
Burning like lava on it's way down
A red river to show me
How worthless I am
They say time heals all wounds
But I'm left with these scars
These stories etched into my skin
From when I was at my weakest
I remember the last time
I only made one cut
But it was so deep
It didn't stop bleeding for days
It's been four months
And that stupid scar is pink and angry
That I had ruined
Another patch of skin
I understand what it's like
To be broken
And feel useless
To feel worthless
And that is why
I cry
When I kiss
Her scars
This isn't even a poem
It's a story
With stanzas