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.
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