I Remember

I remember it just like

It was yesterday.

Feeling so hurt, so dirty.

Picking up the knife,

I remember the first time.

Wishing things were different

As I touched the blade

So sharp, so shiny,

Soon to be dirty like me.

I remember the first time

Making a quick slice

And the blood beginning to flow.

First in a line

Then came the bubbles.

A cringe from my phobia,

My fear of all bloood.

Slowly turning into a searing pain.

I remember the first time.

The pain was wonderful,

The blood on my wrist beautiful.

I remember needing more,

Not capable of stopping.

Retracing the cut,

The blood flows again.

My phobia changed to love.

I'm still scared of blood,

Just not mine

The bane of my existance,

The liquid of life.

I remember the first time.

I remember thinking

About my mom, and asking

How in the world am

I supposed to hide these as I make another pass,

Exactly a centimeter from the other.

Now I couldn't stop myself,

And made four more cuts,

A total of six,

And a whole lot of blood lost.

I remember the joy I got

From the thought of my death

Freedom from what makes me dirty.

I needed more,

But knowing I couldn't.

Knowing that my mom would cry

If she saw me like this.

I remember the first time,

I vowed to hide my cuts

And began wearing a jacket daily.

No one thought twice about it,

I've always been the strange one.

I became a loner, secluded from people

And had no friends at all.

Sometimes I still wonder

If I truly have any friends for real.

Deep in my heart of stone,

I know I'm not alone.

But I can't control myself

Around a knife or anything sharp.

I think about doing it a lot,

Wanting to so bad.

I slip up often

And begin playing with anything sharp I can get my hands on.

But after all these years

I still remember the first time

I made the stupid decision

To make an attempt

On my own life,

Not knowing how precious

My life truly is,

Not knowing how many

People love and care about me.

I have finally stopped

For about a month now,

After six long years.

I still thing about how the world

Would be much better off

Without me, even though

I know in my heart

That is not true.

I remember the first time,

And am getting better slowly.

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

A powerful tale . I was glad for the positive ending. You told a sad story that some people can't return from. Cutting, drinking and drugs are the same. A place to lean on. Hard for family to know what is going on in their children head. No weakness in the powerful poetry. Made me think this evening.
Coyote

[Nyx]

Thank you. I needed to get that out of my system. I have finally realized that cutting was an idiotic thing for me to do, because it was destroying my body and harming me more than helping.
Aurora