Penitence

The first time that I cut myself, I heard my mother distraught, My father in denial, my sister Blaming herself and my brother Barely moving. The second time that I cut myself, I pictured a perfect day, a perfect life. I pictured a grassland, a home In between, smooth, gushing wind And the calmness in it all. The third time that I cut myself, I couldn't gulp down the fact That this is what I've become, A monster sucking life Out of people. The fourth time that I cut myself, I regretted cutting, the first time That I did. I wrote an apology to My future self and made promises To not let my life get the best of me. The fifth time that I cut myself, I bled these words and swore to Stop living but Instead, I stopped punishing myself.