(Not a poem)
I've been clean for a whole month.
So why don't I feel better?
Instead, I want to relapse. I want to feel something. Happiness isn't as fulfilling as the burning pain of depression.
I didn't want to get better anyways. When I was self harming I was always feeling. No matter what. I always had a feeling I could get whenever I needed it. I had a place. But you know what? Even though I'm still working on getting mentally better, I can look at my wrists, my thighs, my stomach, and hips and see that the scars are fading. I don't have to face the shame of looking in the mirror and seeing red lines covering my body. For once I could see what my future would be like. I wouldn't have to hide anymore, I wouldn't have to worry about someone finding out, I could smile and actually mean it. If you are battling a demon, just remember that there is a better feeling than what you are inflicting. A natural way of seeing progress and being proud of yourself. And sweetheart, that goes a longer way .
