Treatment

My Journey (formerly known as "You Hold the Blade and Cut Your Skin")

Ignore those words you know they said

But that's the thing, they're in your head

Those hateful words that can't be true

But now they are a part of you

You start to hate yourself and scream

At the world so cruel and mean

You know you can not carry on

The people tell you to be gone

You take the pain and keep it in

You hold the blade and cut your skin

You feel relief, just for a while

You walk the halls with a fake smile

Your sleeves are your Pandora's box

You hide the key and lock the locks

But you know well, demons see through

And scars are now a part of you

You feel alone and in the dark

The light inside has lost its spark

Freedom appears, it is a gun

You pick it up, your story’s done

You'll make them pay time and again

You close your eyes and count to ten

Tears kiss your face, the end is near

Don't want to die, but can't stay here

You press the gun to your own head

The pain will come out crimson red 

You pull the trigger, bullets miss

You hit yourself with your own fist

Repeat the words said long ago

Prepare again, but this time slow

You feel a push, death you assume

Then you are in a nurses room

An hour away they keep you there

You learn the ways, pretend to care

You're sent away against your will

You're far from home, you feel a chill

You try to fake, you plead and beg

They keep a chain tight on your leg

You say you’ll try just for a bit

But then the pieces start to fit

You follow rules, the chain is gone

Still need work to carry on

You take the judgment from your life

Your worries fade with all your strife

Your journey starts with a breakthrough

The journey to a better you

Next, you must become aware

Of places where you failed to care

You practice things and must commit

This road is slow and takes a bit

The hardest part is to accept

Who you are and lies you kept

And then you must internalize

Beauty seen through your own eyes

Last you work on being free

You’re independent as can be

You go back home and test your skills

A realization gives you chills

The world’s still stupid, cruel, and mean

But then you find an in-between

You figure this without a hint

The world’s the same, but you’re different

Life sends demons for every day

But love yourself, and they go away

Reviews

[Relic]

Normally, I would extol the virtues of a better alternative to cutting and all of that. This poem exhibits your skill so well, my review must include the word excellent.

I will wisely leave it at that.

Relic.