Feelings On Paper

Cycles through and through

i drove myself mad,
thinking that in a world where i existed,
i was meant to suffer.

existence to me is and forever will be misery,
and that made the pain worse.

every time i think this,
my head fills with anguish—
sorrow for my inner child.

i never experienced what it was like,
to be a child...
to still be innocent.

i drove myself to the edge,
thinking that it was just meant to be that way,
i was meant to learn from the scars.

each laceration was a lesson to make me stronger,
and that thought made me weaker.

every time i get cut,
i just wonder when it will be over;
when will i reach my strongest form?

i never experienced confidence,
to be beautiful in my own skin...
to love myself.

i think i'm done with the insanity;
feeling as though my skin is meant to be broken into,
my mind turned inside out.

i want to be more than my trauma—
i don't want to be a walking trigger warning.

i'm sick of staring at the mirror,
only for it to laugh at me,
and for me to be okay with it.

i want what i so rarely experience—
i want to feel strong and confident,
to be happy with myself.

i want to love myself again.