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Jul 2013
I used to cut.

My skin yes
        but that isn’t as important.

What matters is I used to cut my Soul
        I used to tear down my Spirit
                flesh by flesh
                fiber by fiber
                down to my barren, forgotten bones.

I saw my Soul and de-humanized her
        she was of no importance
        she did not matter
        and I almost killed her.

On the outside, she seemed fine
        happy
        content
        beautiful even
But that was not the case
        she was a liar.
                because she really was not okay.

she was dying.

And as the blood dripped from her side
        her Soul slowly dripped with it
        like a steady waterfall of agony and self hatred.

But this is no sad story.
        My Soul did not die.
        I did not let her.

I was the author of my own sad story; I chose to change it
*This poem may be triggering, and I most sincerely apologize if it affects you negatively. I wrote this poem a while back: April 28, 2013 to be exact. I came from a dark place in a dark time, as we all do, for we all have battles, and all of us, at some time or another, feel like there is no hope for a future. However, despite how much you hurt, despite how much you make hate yourself, despite how much you do not see the hope of moving on, things most certainly do get better. Each one of us has been created in images of beauty and splendor and we are all given beautiful gifts that are only for us. We were given the strength to overcome each and every problem that arises within us.

If you feel like there is no hope, if you feel like this is the end, I promise you it isn't. You are loved, you are beautiful, and you are here for a reason. And if you need somebody to remind you of that once in a while, it would be my honor and privilege to do so.

Thank you.
Tori Hart
Written by
Tori Hart  Fort Worth, TX
(Fort Worth, TX)   
1.0k
   maybella snow and Rose
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