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Not even the rain
Numbness used to seep his way into my skin like how the rain would trail his kisses down my body as I stood outside, praying to god to feel something; anything.
I remember how I'd sit in my room, letting my razors speak to my body in a language that only I knew, how I'd let them move their teeth down my skin.
I remember the feeling of them all too well, how they'd glide against the flesh on my thighs, and how whole i'd feel afterwards, almost as if the pain had never existed in the first place.
I am often asked why I did what I did, and I tell them it is hard to explain;
That I never imagined depression would hold me this tightly, or that i'd let razors kiss themselves down my thighs in a language that only I knew.
Numbness used to seep his way into my skin like how the rain would would trail his kisses down my body as I stood outside, praying to god to feel something ; anything.
But not even the rain and his kisses could wash away this feeling, this utter numbness.
And sometimes I think thats why I let the razors tell the story for me, why I let them whisper such sweet melodies to my thighs.
But even after it all, how I no longer let them speak for me, not even the rain could wash away this feeling, a numbness so hollow that it swallows the light flowing from inside of my chest.
I remember how I'd sit in my room, letting my razors speak to my body in a language that only I knew, how I'd let them move their teeth down my skin.
I remember the feeling of them all too well, how they'd glide against the flesh on my thighs, and how whole i'd feel afterwards, almost as if the pain had never existed in the first place.
I am often asked why I did what I did, and I tell them it is hard to explain;
That I never imagined depression would hold me this tightly, or that i'd let razors kiss themselves down my thighs in a language that only I knew.
Numbness used to seep his way into my skin like how the rain would would trail his kisses down my body as I stood outside, praying to god to feel something ; anything.
But not even the rain and his kisses could wash away this feeling, this utter numbness.
And sometimes I think thats why I let the razors tell the story for me, why I let them whisper such sweet melodies to my thighs.
But even after it all, how I no longer let them speak for me, not even the rain could wash away this feeling, a numbness so hollow that it swallows the light flowing from inside of my chest.
Published 9th Sep 2021
Author's Note
I have been clean for self harm for about 3 years now, give or take. This is something that's always been a really hard topic for me to discuss, but I'm so proud of how far i've come.
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