You pressed the blade to my skin
You ripped away my flesh
You watched as scarlet water dripped
You didn’t pull back that gleaming knife
You inserted the needle into my arm
You burned me with that flame
You let them take away my life
You gave in when they pushed me too far
You threw me violently into the dark
You drew out that jagged sword etched with my intials
You sawed the edge across my hand
You carved words from another time
You became addicted without realizing it
You turned numb as you sliced my forearm
You let my world decay into shades of gray
You slipped away into a dream
You humiliated me and regretted the pain
You decided not to care
You refused to believe what they said to me
You carved those thoughts into my wrists
You bled my soul dry, now you must let me die
I Am You
I wrote this two days after my return from the “hospital” I was put there because of the wounds on my arms. I hate myself for not being more careful about hiding the burns. They might have ignored the gashes, but the burns were too noticeable. Being there was not what angered me the most. Knowing that I was trapped and helpless while in their distorted world, nearly killed me