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Poem

It started from the scratches
A small frustration with myself
A mistake that may or may not have been my fault
But that didn’t make a difference
To me, everything was on me
And the world got a little grayer
Slowly more things fell apart
That core of self blame and complete hopelessness
That nothing could ever get better
And the scratches became more
They became blood
The blood I felt I deserved to lose for the way my life had been
Once a day
Twice a day
Still a smile on my face
And then came the mask
The coverup I used to hide the dark numbing fog that consumed me
Three, four times a day
Not a single person around to care as there was more and more marks scarring me
That stinging sensation of water in the shower hitting them
But I don’t clean them because I don’t believe I deserve to heal
The thoughts become numbing
The feeling of pain, the only present emotion
Five, six times a day
Not a single moment goes by when I don’t feel the pain
The temptations
The urge to make myself feel that high of pain again and again
Grey turns to black, stained with red
And that is where it ends for many
But the one fleeting choice to get help
And it gets a little bit brighter
I am a survivor
I wear my scars as a testimony of my pain
My struggles
Never be afraid to get help
Help is always out there
If only just a match to light a candle
Every day
You are loved
You are heard
You are seen
And there can be light again within us all

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