I have not practiced self harming in many, many years. This was written quite a long time ago.
I Feel the point pierce my skin
releasing the pain from deep within.
A little slice, then a little more
drips of blood upon the floor.
Through the muscle – into the vein –
gather strength and do it again.
An open wound – flood flows through,
to release the hurt – it’s all I can do.
Listen to my heart as the pain ceases
Bleeding out emotion, The rage releases
Some may say it’s like suicide
But there’s no doubt it releases the pain inside.
So turn your head if you don’t want to see
the pain inside on the surface of me.
for the scars I carry upon my skin…
tell stories of the hell that rages within.
I have told many lies … I have said that I fell, that I put my arm through a glass table, that my pet scratched me. I have inflicted injury upon myself and placed blame elsewhere for those who would deem me crazy for it.
I am not crazy. I do not wish to die… yet .. I’ve cut myself to release pain. And there are a lot of people who are like me. Sometimes internal pain is so deep and so hidden – you don’t know where it comes from. When you draw that blade across your skin, it lets you know you are alive and still feel. It takes the edge off of the pain in my soul and allows release. It serves as a reminder that I am not perfect, it’s a scar to remind me whenever I dare to dream, that hard reality awaits.
Internal pain is all consuming. There is no band-aid to be used, no alcohol to be sure no infection gets in ~ no kiss it and make it feel all better. It’s screaming, drowning, suffocating, hallow, and unidentifiable. The wounds inflected upon the skin release the rage that flows through my veins, and as it drains and my blood drips upon the floor – my eyes close ~ and for the moment there is peace