Trigger warning: Self harm, cutting


I didn't really mean to...
But all of a sudden...
I was opening the third drawer...
My hand pulled it out...
Uncapped the blade...

Then I caressed it
Ran my fingers around the tip
Tested it on my ankle
But no... that's not what I really wanted
I know better
I know what I've been craving

So then it was there
In my hand on my wrist
And it slashed three times
Stopping only when blood began to flow
And it did flow.... and flow...
I just wanted to watch it...
As serenity washed over my body

Finally

For once

I'm calm

At peace

Broken souls make broken skin - a visual confirmation that the pain inside is real.

The sting of the blade dulls the ache of the tears - matching the outside to the inside - a comfort to sanity in a time of tenuous stability.

It’s not about dying. It’s about peace. It’s about remembering the storm you survived and knowing you are strong enough to do it again.

I’d like to apologize for the skin I’ve separated. Severed and fileted in vein, literally. For the water fall rush of warm liquid that fills my palm, but doesn’t quench my thirst. For the pain I can’t carve out and can’t seem to get enough of. For the Carnegie that is my bathroom floor, an ice skating rink for the depressed.

'Here lies that sad girl and her scars'
Those words hovered over my head.
I giggled slightly,
Sick to my stomach.
Lumps upon lumps form in my throat.
As I welcome euphoria, my friend!

'Here lies that sad girl and her scars'
Sick thoughts, don't you think?
Oh! What do you care!
I'm falling in a blink.

At that moment,
I remembered the girl,
With big eyes and concern on her face.


What's that on your arm?

                  mind your ******* business

Oh it's nothing…

Huh?

I was just drawing on my hand with a really sharp (razor) pen and I didn't notice…

Oh wow that's so weird

                                       You have no idea


I wonder if she saw the words on my arm…
Ha! Yes! You guessed it!
As cheesy I can be,
'HELP ME' was carved, quite boldy on my skin.

The girl made me think...
You,
Weird,
Sick,
****.
Why won't you STOP?

So here I lay,
Dipped in ink,
Stripped and bleak.
Worried my shirt might get ruined, ****!

'Here lies that sad girl and her scars'
Watch her as she shivers.
Her friend has gone away.
Who is here to stay?

hide the knives,
put them away,
so I may live
another day.

meds have been working
head has been hurting
forever needing sedation
truthfully wondering why
i even get up and try
resisting every temptation

to cut myself feels so familiar
on my legs and tummy and arm
once on my neck
i wish somebody else would cut me
euphoria

i’ll only rhyme when i want to
i’ll always cry when i say your name
if we had another chance you
might cut off my wings as a game

cut off my wings
right my wrongs with my blood
cut on my body
just deep enough, love

you taught me that love is irrelevant
because i loved you with everything
and yet our love was bad, black, burnt
and even though i loved you,
i’d have still walked away the same
because i always knew you’d be the end of me

and now it’s been so many years since you cradled my face
and the thought makes me cringe
because even though i didn’t say no
losing my virginity wasn’t what i wanted

not there, not then, not yet
but it was gone and then you were gone
and i slowly realized you never loved me
i was just like the rest

expendable and unimportant
at least, that’s how you made me feel in the gutter on your street above mine at night without touching me without looking at me without tears and without shame

i gave you what innocence i had left
and you ruined my soul
a permanent mark
i still have nightmares of you
i still wake up screaming
you etched yourself into me
and left me sitting in the gutter on your street above mine at night without touching me without looking at me without tears and without shame

i will forever regret you, but i could never take you back
it was an uncontrollable connection - karmic
fate i think because
you taught me what love was
and what love felt like once corrupted

now i no longer mistake lust for love
i recognize that love is nothing like how i thought it to be
love is easy
love flows like grass in the wind
it doesn’t feel scary or forced
love is much more than pretty words left on my front porch

love isn’t abusive or harmful
love isn’t doing everything to please another
love isn’t lies
love isn’t you

but it’ s interesting,
now i no longer suffer abuse
and yet i must inflict physical pain on myself
to feel alive

dear cutting,
thank you

love, me

I can’t believe I’m back here.
I genuinely thought I was done with this.
I remember the first night I sat on the floor with a glistening blade in my hand,
I turned it back and forth,
It looked so new and unused
Just like I once did.
But soon it was covered in blood
And slipped from my hand.
I stared at myself in the mirror with tears rolling down my face,
Trying to convince myself there was another way.
Was there really no other option?
There was… one.
I felt bad for mutilating myself.
But honestly,
I’d do it again.
I wish I could.
I know it sounds silly to an outsider.
It sounds dumb and confusing and insane, actually.
Not one person I’ve told has understood.
People say they get it, but if they wouldn’t do it themselves, they do not get it.
These tears come out like acid
But get reabsorbed
And corrode everything inside of me.
This whirlwind of insanity leaves me paralyzed yet running at the speed of light in every direction crashing into everything that has ever hurt me all at once ripping every fragile piece of me to shreds and leaving nothing salvageable to remain.
So,
A different kind of salt water pours out
Crying for my helpless heart
Instead of my hurting heart.
And the stupid thing is,
This isn’t normal at all.
It doesn’t matter if it was a person or a thing or a hope or a dream. It is what it is and the pain is unavoidable!
How do they handle it so well?
Maybe I’m just inadequate in the strength it takes to deal with your own emotions.
Because most people don’t jump to this
Or fantasize about quitting
They **** it up. Move on with life.
Grow. Challenge. Change.
But truth is
I’m so hopeless.
I’m done with school
I’ve given up on the career I thought I wanted
The life I thought I wanted
I don’t want my friends
I don’t want my family
I don’t want my job
I don’t want my city
I don’t want my country
Hell I don’t even want this world sometimes.
I can’t sit here and pretend everything is okay.
Every day I wake up and focus on what's in front of me
But I’m still living with this internal countdown
This clock that won’t reveal its hour
But reminds me it’s just a matter of time
Till the batteries stop moving the hands.
Please
Stop telling me I’m fine.
There seems to only be a certain anecdote
To make the sun stay
But it’s just one bottle
And I guzzled it so fast
I didn’t have any time to enjoy it before it passed.

I really think I need some type of fix.
They know the cure to cancer..
But they won’t let the patients have it.
So they drug ‘em up instead,
If thats the case,
Now it’s my turn.
I’ll need something strong
To fix all the **** wrong in my brain
That nothing else will heal
So hopefully I can make it to another country
Instead of the bottom of the Pacific
Cause I’ll tell ya what
I can’t do it here.
There are no amount of beach days or Sundays or fun things to get me through this now.
So what pill should I take?
The ***** on the shelf is waiting.

you took my wrist
in your hand
and traced my cuts
with your thumb
you caressed them
and kissed them
and spoke
few words
but you said
never
again