Trying to Understand

You told me how it felt

When you couldn't take it all

You told me where you went

and what you did

I yelled at you

For what you did

I'm sorry for that

Really...

I never could have known

how it felt to sink that low

How it felt when you did that

I had no sympathetic understanding

Nor advice to give

But, I'm trying to understand now

in the only way I know how

Trying to understand what you did

and why. 

Author's Note

This poem is accompanied by a photo essay, with six photos in all. The one that's on here is just a glimpse.
This poem was inspired by a friend of mine who cut herself. When viewing the photo essay, which was quite dark, my step mom asked me why I was trying to capture this and what my purpose was:

Purpose: To tell a story untold. There are pictures of murder, suicide, but never cutting. Living death.
Inspiration: People I've known who have done this, who have described the act, the feelings, the aftermath, the regret etc.
I used myself as the subject of the photo essay, to make sure the poses and pictures were placed in the way I envisioned.
Do I have the right to? No. I have the artistic ability to take pictures and show what I have interpreted this act to be, but I truly can never really know.
The photo essay began with me just trying to capture a tear falling from my eye, to accompany another poem. But it ended with a series of sad pictures with really strong emotions. I think it's interesting that I looked at the sad pictures, and felt they were not enough. I needed a climax.. something deeper for the audience to grab onto.
Cutting was something that I could relate to and had some experience in dealing with it from a distance.
This is not meant to offend in any way. Although without the entire photo essay, you won't truly be able to understand this..