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It starts in the pit of my stomach
this burning fueled by hurt and anger
I feel it move up into my chest
like an explosion ready to happen.
I don't know what it is but this time I just stay silent
If I allow this beast out of me
it'll create havoc
Here's what I did before:
I let it come, I would scream
at the top of my lungs-crying,
throwing whatever was in my way, in my sight-object, animal, person,
I didn't care
Then what I did angered me even more
so I would reach for the only thing I knew would calm me down
stop the chaos-the closest razor blade or sharp object I could find.
And I would cut & slice & stab, stab my arm again & again.
And I'm still crying but this time I'm crying out of relief, because all of the pain
has gone away.
But now that familiar isolation, paranoia, rationalizing, justifying my actions as if
I were using is eating at me once more.
That is what I did before.
This time, I wrote about it instead.
Copyright © Eileen Trout | Year Posted 2013
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