Slits

Trigger Warning. About my Ex's Suicidal tendancies, depression, and self harm.

I remember the day you came into school with fresh slits on your wrists

You had written your world into your own flesh and skin.

Those lines created the pages by which i used to write down our story.

Those cuts displayed every flaw our relationship ever endured.

And I will always remember the day you kissed me

Telling me, begging me not to worry about you.

Telling me the drawings of blood were "nothing"

Telling me you loved me.

To this day, I am left overflowing with questions.

Did it hurt?

Did it make you feel free?

Did it make you feel alive?

Did it make you feel?

But more than anything, i want to know why you chose me.

And my god, I wish this was some poetic analogy for something beautifully tragic.

I wish this was some secret I was too afraid to utter.

But it's not.

And I wish that I had never seen such a horrific sight

Because those scars were not beautiful to me.

They weren't something to be romanticized

They weren't something to be loved.

Because every inch of your punctured skin was a nightmare for me.

I relive that moment every day of my life.

That image forever trapped within the confines of my skull.

And I will always remember the day you left me.

Again and again we fell together.

I held my pain in so deep it created canyons in the breaks on my heart.

But you.

You wore your pain like a badge of honor

You paraded your scars like they were trophies

But they were more than that.

They were a scare tactic that was suffocating me

A plot to force out every ounce of my love for you

A way to blackmail me into staying with you.

And my god I loved you.

And I could have loved you until the day I died.

But I couldn't see past it.

I Couldn't see past the traumatic illustration set before me

past the illustration that stopped my heart beating in my chest.

And I will never forget the day you walked up to me and showed me a display

Of my initials carved into the skin of your forearm.