TW: self harm
I was doing well.
No cuts.
For weeks, I hadn't used that escape.
The physical evidence was starting to fade.
I might have even been able to wear short sleeves.
But the mental scars burned proud,
Always in my mind.
Sometime,
at my best points,
I could push them all the way to the back.
But they were there.
Always.
Then I hit one of my lowest points today.
The pressure of school,
my responsibilities,
my mind,
All came crashing down on me at once.
It moved to the front.
Do it, it will help you.
I did it.
I couldn't help it.
Now,
the mental and physical scars are displayed clearly.
As I hide in my room,
waiting for the tears that will never come,
because I'm numb and I'm broken.
Pathetic.
The tears only come when I deserve them.
It would be a waste to use them on myself.
So I hide in my room with my long sleeves,
So that no one would know.
I can't let myself become a burden.
I don't even deserve my own tears,
let alone someone else's.
I'm alone in this fight.
Well,
Not completely.
I'm alone with the scars, the cuts, and the blade that made them.
YOU ARE READING
My Mind On Paper
PoetryA collection of poems written by me. These are for the heartbroken, the hopeless romantics, the lonely, and the people struggling with their mental health. Also, I try to add a nice picture to every chapter to take away from some deep-ness(?) of som...
