Mental Illness Poems

Self Harm- Red

(TW: SH ( as read in the title), blo0d, scars, etc)

I know I'm better now, but somedays I miss it

The self-harm, the self-hate, and all that other bullshit.

Some days it is easy to ignore, and somedays I don't even remember

but when days get bad and I feel sad the one idea come to the center

I miss the scars, I miss the rage

I miss the beating heart, the blood pumping through my veins

I missed the blood, I miss the red

I can't undo the wrists that have bled

but still inside is a faint small voice

that tells me that I have a choice

To remember my mother, to remember my father

my grandparents, my lover, my sisters, and brothers

even the animals who would miss me so dearly

if I let this addiction get more wild than weary

so I'll throw out the pin, I'll through out the knife

though I miss the red, I know it's not nice

and for now, at least attempt to forget the past

and never remember the harm, of the bright red glass.