I'm broken, you see.
Broken like the shattered window
That once held my sad reflection.
I'm in so many little pieces,
That just won't fit back together.
Yet I've tried to fix myself,
Defeat the depression.
But the "darkness" is all I seem to know.
My wrists and belly are covered in faint, thin lines.
Each one telling of a time that I felt hopeless,
A time that I just didn't think I'd make it.
And as I run my fingers over the scars,
I wonder if they'll ever fully fade.
If I'll ever rid myself of my demons.
Maybe if I keep fighting,
I'll win this war with myself.