In the beginning.

I remember when I first started cutting, 

back when it was my wrists

and not my legs. 

Back when I didn't care 

if anyone noticed or not

because 

I thought I would be dead the next day anyways. 

I remember one day in particular,

back in the beginning. 

My skin was still bloody

and the cuts burnt 

at every bend of the wrist.

Yet, I still managed to smile at each day that passed. 

One day was different. 

I cut off the woven bracelets I happen to wear each day since the beginning, 

ripping myself from the masks of my skin

that held me together with my sanity. 

Looking down, all I could see was my beauty ripped to shreds. 

A decorated cake freshly made but cut into 16 slices. 

I then slipped into a tank top 

that showed the figure of my body very well

and I made my way to school, 

just like I normally did every tuesday morning. 

I walked through the halls. 

I went through my day. 

Normal. 

No one said a word. 

No one gave glance. 

It was as if no one cared. 

But then I realized. 

No one is going to care,

because they have no idea what to look for. 

I am just walking through these halls, 

hoping that someone, 

anyone,

will just come up to me 

and fix all my problems. 

Hoping they will just take all the pain away.

Why would they?

They have no idea what I am doing to myself,

usually in the suffocation of my own bedroom. 

Everyone has something that defines them, 

a past that is always going to be there 

no matter how many times one tells themselves, 

"the past is the past, so let it go." 

You can't let that go. 

It defines you. 

Don't let go of what makes you who you are. 

Just learn to use it to your advantage. 

You are you.

You are living you own life. 

They are living their own life. 

You are not living their life, 

and they are not living yours. 

You are what you make of yourself, 

but you don't have forever to make it. 

-S.L.S. 

 

Author's Note

I am still working on this. What else should i elaborate on? What do you want to hear more about? Should i add an extended metaphor maybe? more details about her day. I know the ending sucks haha should I go into more detail with the last words... ugghhh idk... I really need help... D:

Reviews

[Night]

Wow...I can defiantly relate to this...well, probably not in the physical way, but definitely the emotional way. I'm glad how you didn't really make everything okay for the girl in the end, because (call me a pessimist) sometimes life isn't okay.
Thank you for posting this!
Night

[Mike Cole]

I really enjoyed your piece and the metaphor was very good. Thank you for being so open with your readers and I think that a person's vulnerability can really separate a piece from a good piece to a great piece. I really liked it. Keep writing!

[BuffyWillowDawnAngelGil..]

just curious, why 16 slices? of the cake I mean.

[Samantha Lynn]

idk that is just how many slices I cut my cakes into?? lol and I really didn't want to count my own scars to match to be honest.... so 16. that's it. better than 8 because it seems like there is more slices, ya know.

[Krystle Lewallen]

This is an interesting piece. It definitely evokes some strong emotions from me. I'm scared for this girl and as I read I was really hoping for a happy ending. You should consider giving her a happy ending, it's possible for everyone to have that. Maybe I'm just a positive thinker.

[Samantha Lynn]

I just added more. lol I honestly have no idea where I am going with this one, but how does it sound now????? eeehhh??? lol

[Krystle Lewallen]

Perfect! It sounds final, like she has grown within the context of the poem.

[Samantha Lynn]

yay XD

[Coyote Poetry]

A hard topic to write about. To me. I wouldn't cut myself to be alive. I may drink myself to death. The poem described desperation and dancing on a bad edge. I have know girls and woman who cut themselves. We never know what someone does in the privacy of their home. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote