my recovery

she lived through pitch blackness

she held siccors to her stomach for hours on end

she held bottles of bleach in her hands 

her tears silently falling as she tried bringing it up to her lips

she endoured the razors finest points 

the nights when she cried so hard she could not sleep 

because her pillows being so wet and cold

and her horrible thoughts kept her awake.

shesurvived being hit by bus 

after bus

after bus

in her mind

every time shed see one speeding down the road. 

she fought through the urgesto jump in front of them

even when she was stepping off the sidewalk into deaths face

she faught and she stepped back

and she told herself 

"just one more day...

please...

just one more day..."

but slowly, something happened.

she began to notice that she wasnt holding herself back

every time a car wizzed by.

something kept her from hurting her alreaghty scarred hips in the shower that night

like her skin was suddenly titanium 

the blade couldnt touch her like it had

nights before.

something was happening.

she opened her eyes one morning and wasnt dissipointed that she hadnt suffocated in her sleep

she forgot the hiding place for the torture devices

her voice started coming back

in places other than a notebook and the skin on her hips

the scars began fading and werent brought back

she smiled

she actually willingly smiled without thinking

about how se hated herself so god damed much

she did it 

and she did it 

and she did it because she fought

she fought against thhe demons who bore swords 

with her slight desire for survival

she faught

and she won

and now 

she is new again.

no, it was not immediate

not it did not take mere seconds.

hours

days

weeks

months of agoniszing battles 

most of which she lost.

but she continued. 

and shes still here. 

 

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