Earlier I relapsed
Cutting away my woes and letting my pain seep out;
But then I stopped,
Realizing how many promises I was breaking
And how many hearts I was shattering

I felt weak in my knees
Falling to the ground I cried
Ashamed and guilty
How could I do such a thing to those I love?

Panic set in,
I can't let anyone know
Because I don't want to go back to that hell
That cursed and wretched psychiatric hospital
That's more like a prison with schedules and timed everything;
Painted over windows and white walls that hold tallies of torturous days and child-like scribbles
That makes it more of a trigger than everything else

But soon enough I gathered myself;
I took a hot shower,
And stood in front of the mirror practicing my smile
While I planned what outfits to wear with foundation to hide what I've done

So now all is okay and fine,
And I'm alright;
At least,
I think so...

I haven't done it in a while,
But seeing the faded outline of my friends,
The scars that make me feel calm,
Made me want them back

I used to run my fingers along the cuts
As if I was reading braille to soothe my head;
Because I felt like those fresh wounds,
Were my only friends along with my blades

Those blades and the scars that accompanied them were something I could count on,
No matter how bad my day was I could cry all night
And sit in the bathroom mirror and talk to myself as I stared into my own eyes
Letting my blade dance across my skin,
Leaving a beautiful red trail;
The stinging sensation that came after that turned into the blissful pleasure,
That wonderful feeling I once loved was something I couldn't remember
Until today;

I wasn't even sad at the moment
It was just something my mind drove me to do out of sheer nostalgia
Because seeing the faded outlines of my scars
Counting each one replaying the night I created them
And remembering how close they were to me and that they were once my friends
Brought it all back;

So I threw a little self-harm depression party once again,
I created this little get together
And invited those old friends and demons of mine
Where my blade once again danced
And my scars then cried red;
Where I stared into my dark chocolate brown eyes
And let tears of my own claw their way out;
Where I smiled and laughed, talking to myself saying how much I missed the stinging pleasure
And relapsed again for the first time in a while

I thought about how what I was doing was something so wrong
And I told myself I was sadistic for laughing because I missed the sensation
But my god does it feel so right
I guess that's why so many people
Do all these things that slowly **** them;
Just as I do with self-harm...

Today, I feel unwanted
Unworthy, ashamed of myself
I feel useless and stupid
But I tell you
This feeling won't drag me down
'Cause I won't give up
On fighting my life's storm.

Never be ashamed of where you come from.
But if you come from a family of criminals, you can be better.
They say “You can only be as good as your parents were.”
You can be better.