This week marks three months gone of thousands of months I plan to live
The day I gave myself to the comfort of my True Father instead of to the discomfort Of a Blade.
I now ignore that sense of lust for the sight of my own blood the addiction I found in spreading lies across my arms
I've given up the sense of calm I found in watching my skin heal again Reminding me that I was utterly human yet somehow invincible
Except I wasn't...
Every time I glided a tool across my arms or my thighs or my stomach
I was shoveling myself into a deeper hole And while I was at the bottom Someone was at the top Filling it in, not knowing that someone... That I was inside of it.
As I cried tears of hurt With the person who cared, Someone handed me down a ladder.
But I had to choose to climb out I had to decide if I wanted to stay in darkness Or release myself to the light... not the bad light that you see as you die but the good light you see when you discover that you are noticed and you are loved
Because isn't that why this whole thing started Because I felt invisible Because I was not just one of many but I was the last of many
Self harm is a trap That wraps you up in the cold But you never get fully warmed Because you're always losing blood.
I'm three months separated From the act of self-hatred But I'm always just three steps away From being right there again.
Strength. Determination. Love. Self Love. Those are the things that keep me in check. Mother, Brothers, Friends, Students Those are the people that keep me safe And warm... the real warm Not the fake warm that comes from being wrapped up In a nice thick blanket. But the real warm That could make your heart swell Even when you're alone.