there are girls with red panels
down their arms as if they have
been bolted with puncturing plastic,
as if they are robots who whine
in binary code.

"if you have scratched yourself
a few times, you have not cut"
and she lived in a shed,
floorboards pressed to her cheek,
nuts and bolts in her ****** hallows,
pumped with drugs for a white throat.

she should know. i do not deserve
to feel free. i should have never
pushed my razors under paper
wads in my trashcan. i should have
kept them and drag silver over
my skin for shaving, leave me ready
for the next boy with rose hair
and wide, chlorined smile eyes.

there are girls who do not romanticize
romantic illness, like depression isn't
a rose in a jar in your throat, black
and bottle borne and biting at the flesh,
but never talk about recovery. "it's good,"
i am about to say, but i do not know
what it is like to bleed out my body,
spoon out my insides and throw
them away, shudder at lit streetlights
and let tears slink towards bathroom tiles.

I am a gypsy wanderer.
The only home
I have ever known
Is my body.
And I destroy it.
Those like me
Can never have a home.
So I fill my lungs
With cigarette smoke,
My skin with scars
And my blood with *****.

Everyday around quarter past three,
you burst into the bathroom searching for me,
I get hidden by your mother while you are away,
hidden, unused for most of the day,
I feel your anger as your hand grips me tight,
I'm the one & only thing that helps you sleep at night,
I live to put scars upon your wrist,
I leave my mark I'm proud of this,
I watch as the beautiful red blood pattern drips,
and runs off the ends of your fingertips,
what possesses humans to act like this,
to scream, cry & cut their wrists,
but for now my job is clear
the reason that I was brought here
to relieve the pain
to sit by the window and watch the rain,
up until around quarter past three
when you burst into the bathroom searching for me...

so guys,dudes,dudets,peeps I've been through a lot in my life and i wanted to give some help/advice to people who are finding themselves either cutting or wanting to cut because honestly its sad to to see, i mean I've been there many times in my life and all i remember feeling was depressed but more than that i had lost faith. once you cut you realize that you want to find some kind of logic to cutting whether its loneliness or abuse but the whole time i was running away from my feelings. in life we all go through bad things that will make us sad, things that will mark and scar us emotionally but why add to that physically? i understand its create something or replace the mental pain but you know as a person i only look to see the best in people.happy or smiling, like when i eat cookies. seriously though people don't want to see those bad things that are happening to you because those things belong to you as a person, things that make you who you are. i remember the best thing for cutting is just having someone to talk to whether family or friends just having someone there as positive reinforcement. now I've met a lot of people who have said they cant stop and find it addictive but just think to yourself 'how long have i gone without cutting?' because whether its an hour,a day , a week it shows me you are strong enough to stop. i mean obviously not all at once but gradually day by day you'll stop. i'm not saying it will erase sadness completely i mean emotional scars will stay with us but to stop cutting allows happiness and positivity to come easier to you. if the pains in one place its easier to forget. just always remember the most important person in your life is you and its illogical to hurt yourself. i used to blame myself because i felt that i wasn't wanted by my own family or people but i realized "who cares? i'm me. like me or hate me. so i've hoped this helps if not oh well sorry, aha. if anyone needs support just message me, oh and tell me in the comments below if this helps and how long you've gone clean , and yeah peace