Thoughts as Poetry

It's Gone

I sometimes think that what happened is past,

That the scars will wither and the pain won't last,

But looking at my arm, at the marks of what was done,

I refeel the rejection, the desperate measures, the springing of a hate that almost begun

Sometimes the ragged red lines make me want to cry,

As I remember those days I wanted to die,

But know I've realised the present is what counts,

Because you showed me you don't care about past haunts

You'll help shape me a new life, my future, day by day,

Even though the scars remain, even though they won't go away,

The past has gone and what matters is now,

I stopped my self-destruction because you showed me how.