i hate to be graphic and upsetting, but i need to write this. please refrain from reading.

first thing on my mind is
harm
what i feel like i deserve is
pain
it is not even a coping mechanism to me anymore
it has become routine
i fixate on it
i need to do it
i have to or else
i cannot bear to be myself
in my cold skin
i can't even look in the mirror
i'm a ******* monster
the slow sensation on my arm
is relieving and reassuring
that i am still deserving of it

i remember when i was 13
and i grabbed my weapon
and ran to my room
shut the door
turned out the light
sat down on the floor
and wept
if only i had known
what i was getting myself into
fast forward 5 years
and i am still there
on the floor

the reaction from my mother when i confessed
shocked me and took me by surprise
how could you be mad at me
i thought to myself
but now i realize why
i was her masterpiece
never to inflict harm on myself
and there i was
ruining what was hers
my skin

it's always there
most times a burden
other times a sign of resilience
a reminder of my monster
my corrupt side
of low self-esteem and self-worth
that i seem to never gain back
i won't ever hide it
i won't ever get rid of it
because i can't

i am not proud
most people say i'm a pathetic fool
crying for attention
desperate for others to see
but no one ever notices
and it lets me know
that it will always be
my little secret
a habit that was once by choice
but now by force

i wonder if i will ever grow out of it
like they said i would
years ago
i have accepted the fact that
i love it
and will never let it go