POSSIBLE TRIGGERS: Self harm

I looked down and saw a scar
Of where I used to be.
A long, steady coursing line
Down my arm.
My scar invited me down it’s course,
Down its bright red river.
My curiosity begs me to go back.

I am weak from days of crying,
Nights without sleep,
And no strength on which to lean.
It would be so easy to press back down
And reopen what I closed.
I just have to keep trying,
Have to keep fighting.