Cutting

It's a bit long, but I had a tough time today and had to express myself.

I sit back and watch the girls play,
smiles and cheerful faces,
but it's all fake.

I'm the girl who always kept to herself,
the one who always kept her arms covered.
They always asked why,
but my reply was false.

The truth was hidden beneath the gentle fabric,
hidden beneath all those rubber bands and bracelets.
The story of my life was an open book,
each scar told it's own tale.
They were stories no one bothered to read.

I was the girl who cried herself to sleep,
the one who blasted music to drown out the voices,
the one who never told the truth.

I hid behind my hair,
and never bothered to make eye contact.
I was the kid who's parents couldn't handle her.
A few punches in the throat,
a whack on my bum.

It never mattered because they were in control.
They could do what they wanted.
They didn't know what they made me do to myself.
So desperate and miserable,
I resorted to a darker path.

The darkness had its grip on me,
and I was stuck.
I was drowning,
getting caught in my own lies.

They thought they knew me,
thought they controlled me.
But I was in my own little world,
taken by the strength of the my new weapon.

Nothing was ever the same.
When I looked at the smiling girls playing,
I'd envy them.
Why couldn't I be happy, too?

Why did the darkness do this to me?
The blade had promised comfort and peace,
a manageable life and nothing more or less.

And no matter how much I've healed since then,
the darkness left a permanent mark.
The artwork on my arms and legs will never fade,
but the misery can.
And so I try harder.

Sometimes I slip up,
and cry over the painful past,
remembering the pain,
remembering the blood.

It was that very same blood that kept me sane,
it was that very same pain that distracted me from my problems.
I thought I had been saved,
but I was only falling deeper into my troubles.

And no matter how much I try,
it seems that I will never be saved,
nor want to be saved.

Author's Note

This is my life story and how I'm currently living.

Reviews

[Laura Storm]

sounds like my life. though it was never my parents who hit me. rather any boy I decided was worth my time. everytime I fell in love they decided they would use me as their punching bags. Eh such is life. when I was raped at 13 I turned to cutting. it started little like nail marks but quickly went to bleeding till I passed out. I've been a cutter for 6 years now....this is my life and I'm afraid....

[My Wildest Dreams]

I love the emotion in this. I feel your pain. I used to feel exactly like this, but Im getting better. Hang in there. It'll get better for you too. And keep writing, you are very good at it :)

[Cliff Rhodes]

This is amazing writing, though it seems to be coming from the depths of despair. There are so many open doors that beg to be walked through, mystical, healing, benevolent doors that do not inflict pain or sadness. All you have to do is look. For such a long period of time, it was forbidden to even read the Bible, which is a book of mistakes and choices that lead to chaos, as well as blindingly magnificent ecstasy and peacefulness. God will fight the battles for you, those which you are unable to fight for, yourself.

[SOUL LESS]

Amazing...it makes me feel almost sorry for you. You're great with words...simple and expressive. Do u really cut, though? And i'm sure you want to be saved...talk to me. Seriously...make a few friends. All bad times pass...just write your heart out. And try to inculcate a little hope at the end of each of your stories. You'll become a little heroine in your own world. Write of little children...a single smile from a little child melts one's heart.
Fake...it's a word i've used often enough. I'll tell you how that works...people, who have everything in life...well almost everything, dun need to wonder about the truths of life. You understand philosophy better than most and psychology.
Society is all fake. It is founded on hypocrisy.

Society, as we have constituted it, will have no place for me, has none to offer; but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on unjust and just alike, will have clefts in the rocks where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed. She will hang the night with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole.

Read De Profundis.

[fernii]

this line definatly applies to me "I was the girl who cried herself to sleep,
the one who blasted music to drown out the voices,"
I know exactly how you feel, and i have currently beeen through this whole situation and all the pain that it caused and im now going to see a councilor, it helps trust me. Keep writing. Your a really good writer and dont let anyone tell you otherwise.