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deepundergroundpoetry.com

Confessions of a cutter

I'm pretty sure I'm on repeat
Trapped in a mind that won't speak even when I try all I get is defeat hanging on with broken feet, laying down hopelessly in front of a train watching it go by slowly im sad mostly but watch closely as I break out of this rope that's holding me.
I take out this shiny piece of metal that's controlling me entirely.
I place it gently on my skin
I can feel how cold it is
I place the jagged edge so close to me that I feel how damaging it intends to be
Pulling back I must admit that if I wasn't already filled with hurt this sorrow drenched release would scare me.
But it doesn't.
It pulls me closer with every speckle of blood it draws from my weary body
It calms me and that's what scars me.
What kind of twisted mind sees their body covered in red lines and blood red sparks flying and thinks "this is what soothes my fractured, racing brain?"
It's only when I'm done and my brain snaps back that I feel guilty.
The guilt lingers and I think that's what kills me.
The pain dies and then it comes back but then the worst pain of all is the reasoning behind my disgusting habit.
Being told relentlessly that im not good enough to breathe the air that my body needs just to survive
That im not beautiful enough to call myself a person I'm just a thing that lives for others to stomp on and if I scream out in pain the giant that's stepping so hard on me will emotionally break me
So I fight so hard to decide what hurts more being stepped on by the giants or being torn down to 3'2 and having them yell into my face how much of a disgrace I am
My brain back tracks into that decision everytime I decide to go through with releasing my blood and cursing myself only this time there are no giants, it's only me that I'm fighting. Im a big bully and my own tainted words they hurt me
So instead of laying my insecurities on my heart for the world to see I start world war three inside of me
Go ahead and slice your wrists you'll never amount to anything anyway, that's what she used to say and that's what the bully inside of me says too
So I take the cold metal and place it on my wrist again this time angry at the mean words I said to myself and I see the blood form fast and the sting makes the bully inside of me rest for the moment.
I've punished myself, I've fed its hunger and I pick up what's left of me and fight again relentlessly.
Written by Jonestyra
Published
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