TW: self harm
scars
The blade penetrates the skin,
So delicate, lovely and thin.
The monsters in my head start to subside,
And finally I can feel inside.
Drip, drop goes the blood,
The gates are open, here comes the flood.
Criss-cross, right, left and diagonal,
The monsters start scream again,
'You're a fucking animal!'
And just like the blood,
the screams floods out of me.
Why couldn't they stop, why couldn't they see?
Words, they cut deeper than knives,
I'm a walking irony - I have been my entire life.
I sink deeper as pain starts flow,
The scars, they are visible now, they show.
Relief, finally, I feel relief.
Coming up for air, I can finally breathe.
Slowly but surely I fall into sleep,
My slumber, it likes to pull me in deep.
And in this time I'm allowed to forget,
The scars upon my arm that I have left.
// R.M.
This is NOT a romanticising of self harm. I process pain through poetry.