The Girl I Used To Be
I look down now
And I can just barely see
The thin, pale white lines
From the girl I used to be
The girl who’s not so far gone
Not as dead as you think
But instead of watching skin bleed
She now just puts it in ink
As the clock ticked faster
The calendar pages flipped
More and more time passed
And the scars started to slip
You hear that she’s clean
She has been for years
6 months, one year, two?
If only it were that clear.
If only she could say she’s better
And no urge lingers in her head
It’s a part of her now, she won’t escape it
At least, not until she’s dead.
She’ll spend her whole life chasing
That high that she once knew
And because she can’t do it herself
There’s no danger she won’t pursue.
She’d climb the tallest mountains
With little fear of fall
Because if she took a plunder
She’d be at peace, after all.
To her, it doesn’t count
Grabbing lamps and hot glue
Burning isn't cutting
It’s an accident, too.
She yelps and she complains
Griping about the burn
When really what it feels like
Is a quick, quiet return.
Every now and then
Her skin feels an itch
A jittery, gaping feeling
Longing to be stitched.
She’ll resist it best she can
Deny it till it’s true
But still, she’ll never cease to long
For the feeling she always knew.
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