cutting self harm pain cuts
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I am…
I am a poet.
Overwhelming, destructive thoughts.
She said write.
So I wrote.
She said don’t paint your skin red.
I sit in school with my head down and my ear buds in. It's October, and it's still in the mid-eighties most of the time, but I have to wear sweatshirts... I have lots of cuts running up and down my wrists… I can't get enough. I sulk so badly.
What happened to that little baby that gigged at the little things
What happened to that baby girl who smiled at her family
What happened to that little smile
7/14/13
Every day
In every way
Every person
Earns their stripe
Whether struggle
Or battle lost
Risen up
Or falling down
Every step
