I held a blade to my arm last night,
Like I have many times before.
But this time ended differently,
Because this time the skin tore.
To others this might look bad,
Like I tossed 4 years down the drain.
Four years of being “sometimes” happy,
Was clearly driving me insane.
It felt good to hold a blade again,
Even better to feel it slice.
My emotions had broken through again,
Getting rid of them costs a price.
Although in some ironic way,
The cuts had healed my pain.
I know that I need a better way,
To safely numb my brain.
And that’s that honesty in this,
Recovery is one big mess.
But when everything is said and done,
I’ll marvel at my success.