I cut for the tears trapped in my veins.
The ones that worry people, the ones that make them look again.
I cut for the tears that sting and burn
Oh my God, that hurts, and I know why.
No need to look for an excuse to ache.

I cut for the tears that no one forces from me.
It wasn’t him leaving, it wasn’t her lying
Or them, not even noticing. No.
These tears are mine! Mine alone to cry!
Only I can make them flow.
Only I.

I cut for the tears that leave a scar. Though mine, you hardly see.
Just clear white skin over whole blue veins
Not a mark….but one or two.
Small white lines, barely raised.
More like winks, to remind me:
Healing isn’t beautiful
or free.

And that’s not how I cry now.
Clear tears come and go,
And my wrists wink,
And I am whole.