An anthem for those who self harm.
I've wanted to die. Needed to cry.
A short explanation of how I got here. I could scream, but it wouldn’t be enough.
I hate it when people see my scars. I can feel their judgement.
TRIGGER WARNING There have been days, when I have wanted to quit.
Why do we cut ourselves? A simple question.
A complex answer.
Take me to the wild, and let me be free. Let me explore, the land, the coast, the sea.
My scars are like the stars. Too many to count.
Goodbye knife. I don't need you anymore.
A short poem about facing a craving.
I know you are out there. And I know you're about to self harm.
I’m depressed and angry. It is a bad combination.
Love keeps me from cutting. I want to die, nearly every day. Life is hard, painful, frustrating.
Some sad days come, and I start to feel numb, sick to my stomach, at the state of affairs.
I can’t find relief, in anything but blood.
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Retry