thoughts of sixth grade
brings back
memories of self harm
with that first cut
i thought i was going to die
it bled so ******* much

now i look at
my scarred arm and shoulder
think of how far i have come
and how far i still have to go
but i am getting there
slowly but surely

thoughts of freshman year
brings back
memories of hoarding butter knives in my pockets
a good friend scratching himself until he bled
holed up in the bathroom stall
they were gonna pry them from my cold dead fingers

now i look at
him and how far he has come
the scars on his arms are fading
he looks happy
she makes him happy
and i am happy for him

thoughts of eighth grade
brings back the taste of bile
in the back of my throat
after having not eating all day
and how when he met me the first thing he told me
was that i needed to lose weight

now i look at
that roll around my middle
the aftermath of a cocktail of pills
they help
but is it really worth it
somedays i hate my body
but i am getting better

thoughts of my death
when i took away mama’s little girl
still haunt my mind
i hear the girl’s voice whispering against my spine
running atrophied fingers up and down my back
i wish she would go away and leave me be

now i look at
that boy in the mirror
staring back at me
with the crooked smile and the shaggy hair
and the wide open heart worn upon his sleeve
he is as fragile as me

thoughts of years gone
by and years yet to come
these are the things that keep me up at night
but we have all come so far
never to look back
only look forward
because the future is so bright
and we made it
******
we made it