Band aids

Remember how when you were little you would scrape your knee

How you would run to mommy crying

How she would kiss your “boo-boo,” put a bandaid on it and it would be all better?

And then you got older, things got more complicated

The cuts you now achieve are no longer skin deep, they run straight to your core

These are wounds no band aid could heal

And no amount of gouze could stop the bleeding

These scars are invisible

They dwell just under the surface slicing deeper and deeper

Leaving you crippled but with no visible marks

Unless you count the self-inflicted wounds

When you run a blade through your skin trying to escape the torment of your thoughts

But you can let anyone kiss these boo-boos because nobody can know about them

And you can't reach out for a hug because nobody can know your hurt

So you sink in your own shame and unwanted pain

Something that used to be so easy to fix

Now an obstacle you can't cross

And when it all gets to be too much and you finally go to mama for help

You realise even she can't make it better

So you start going to therapy

Trusting a complete stranger to save you

Until the day comes that she tells you only you can save yourself

Only problem don't know how to

You can't patch up these wounds with bandages

There's no feel better kiss that could take the pain away

Everything you try fails until it seems nothing will ever make you better

So you slowly drown. 

This poem is about: 
My family


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