When dusk sets in,
when everything gets darker,
when everything gets still,
the intrusive thoughts start to fill.
Each slit, a way to escape, a way to release,
a way for the pain to ease.
But beneath the scars, the wounds remain,
a clue about the unsaid pain.
The blade, a friend or not,
and the knowledge of drugs, a blessing or curse,
I cannot decide.
For they are something I seek in the moments I need to hide.
But amidst the darkness, I see a glimmer of light,
telling me, "You'll be alright."
I only need to silence the noise,
for healing starts with a choice.