Mute

I sit in the chair, tissue torn in my hands

Listing off in my head how much was in the room, my favorite bands

Anything that wasn't what I was supposed to be talking about

Was filtering through my brain, itching to shout out

The stripes were a distraction, so were the cracks, and the stain

Something to keep my mind off of my thoughts, off my pain

She sits across from me, waiting for me to say anything

But instead, I mindlessly  hum something I used to sing

Pulling my sleeves further up, they hide THAT arm

The one that's sort of disfigured thanks to self-harm

The reason I was in here, curled up hands clasped around my knees

My mouth metaphorically sewed shut, my lips in a silent freeze

Maybe I should say something, reassure her that I do have ability to speak

That I don't want to say anything, because I'm so weak

It's my fault I'm in here, It's my fault everyone is torn apart

It's my own fault the nurse had to mark me down on the medical chart

Where the black fabric covers, lines criss-cross forming that word

Over and over again, worthless, is what I heard

And when she asks, it's one simple question I know

The one thing that makes me feel completely low

Out of her mouth speaks, "Why do you cut?"

And the unspoken question, what has caused your mouth to completely shut?

My reply, is just as simple; silence speaks well for itself

Another session gone, with her and myself.

Another hour wasted, without a word being said between us two

Day after day, week after week, I will not speak true

Author's Note

For those of you who haven't read it. Pick up Cut (picture), it's a really good book.

Reviews

[J Todd Underhill]

Again I say I wish that my grass was Emo so that way it would cut itself... LOL, I can understand, I was a cutter 20+ years ago and know what it was that compelled me to do it, I sympathize, but I also caution that the scars this action leaves will remain for life. I wear long sleeved shirts even on the hottest days so that I will not have to explain my past.

[Inyourshadow]

Seems my good friend Underwood nailed this piece with his comments, You pen such a bittersweet tale underlined with regret remorse and retribution. You regret hurting others and have remorse for the scars as for retribution your character has to live with it forever, forever hiding the shame, but not the shame many feel but the shame that it came to this when others could have so easily stopped it by listening when you needed to talk. Keep em' coming

[Savior knowmore]

Oh wow Marie. You're so good at poetry. I've read as many as I could. As expected, this one is as good as the rest.