it wasn’t long ago
that i let my
sensitivity show.
saturday,
was filled with dismay.
i broke down
and crashed
straight into the ground.
i thought about angels
in their heaven,
so i gave myself
chances up to eleven.
eleven chances to
slip away to heaven.
but thats recovery for you.
get up eight times,
fall down nine.
on the ground,
i’m picking myself up.
and as i do,
i see what i’ve been through.
i see my fresh cuts
and see how beautiful and red
they look.
i love how much they bled.
and i’m scared
so very scared.
i’m scared,
and i’m alone,
even though
i see how much i’ve grown,
but i’m still frightened
by how much
my love has been heightened
by the razor in my hands
and how much
i can withstand
the sting of the blade.
and i remember
how no one is at my aid.
i want to recover.
i want to feel happy
with others.
but what if i slip and fall
back into the life
where i fell in love
with the knife.
i’m so scared
and no one is there for me
to say ‘i feel so despaired.’
goodnight to you.
goodnight to them.
goodnight to us.
goodnight to all.
tonight
another angel,
her wings have been found
and is now heaven bound.