I inflicted a wound,
you showed me where the words cut.
How could I not see that in the
beginning?
How have I been so blind to
that side of
myself?

I get wound up,
like what happens when you
twist a slinky and that one ring
pops out,
never to go back in properly again.
A ball of anxiety sits in my stomach
daily,
but when I love
I get scared.
I get eaten up with fears of
being abandoned,
it tears at me to the point
that I can't even think straight.

So it comes out
eventually,
I lash out to those I love.
It must be their fault,
right?
But I know others can't be blamed
for my feelings.
I know that.

I've learned many lessons the hard way,
that was one of them.
It must be an unconscious thing
since I didn't recognize it.
As all, I'm still learning parts of myself,
I'm still growing.

I've also learned not to make excuses
when confronted with my wrongs.
This is simply my best explanation.
There is no justification I can make
in causing pain,
not for anyone.
I can't convince anyone that I can change,
we all hold beliefs on that.
But I am not the same person
I was
a year ago.
That's a fact.

I should not have been blind to this
for so long.
I can already see more pages in my
past where I have unknowingly
smudged the ink.
Places where I was blind before.

It's time to get to the root cause
of this.
It's time to apply the careful
introspection to a once dark place
of unknown anger.
It's time to dig into this childhood
pain,
this childhood cancer that eats me
alive,
this place where any sense of being
left
causes self-shattering tremors,
and rip this part from me
whole.

I need this to work.
It is no one's fault but my
own
that I have not accomplished
this yet.
It's time to bleed
so that I may finally
grow.