It- Self Harming.
My arms tingle and shakes as the blade gets closer.
My arm tickles as the blood pours down.
The blood never stops dripping down my arm.
The feeling is amazing as all the pain drains out of me.
My t-shirt over the wounds to clean them, long sleeves for life so no one sees my hideous scars.
But to me the scars are a reminder to all the times I've been hurt and lied to.
But times like these are getting worse.
Becoming an addiction. I need to stop.
this Isn't a cry for help, just a way of life, that everyone seems to be doing these days.
I just keep telling myself that I'm okay.
I am trying to stop I promise you all.
But I don’t think I'm that strong, especially when I've been doing it for four years.
It- self harming.
The secrets come out eh?
Overdosing, cutting, attempting suicide? These all count.
I guess my identity need to come out.
People can now see the real me, the person who cries her self to sleep every night,
and tries to hide all her scars.
I just want people to know who I really am.
I don't want to hide for the rest of my life.
© Copyright 2016 ZoeyRawr24. All rights reserved.
Poem / Poetry
Short Story / Romance
Miscellaneous / True Confessions
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