Until these wounds heal

12. Seven days clean

I was seven days clean,
From what was a becoming a usual routine,
For the first time in a while,
My wrist no longer made me revile,
The red scratches had faded almost healed,
And I no longer had to keep it concealed,

I was seven days clean,
Healing, hurting, somewhere in between,
Resisting the desired temptation,
However not wanting to disappoint you I was fuelled by determination,
And then on the seventh day everything got too much,
And now my wrist is no longer smooth to touch,

I was seven days clean,
Since I had seen this red sheen,
It all came flooding back in,
The relief, control, freedom I would have on my skin,
And for a bit now I can breathe clearer,
Until later when I see what I've done in the mirror,

I was seven days clean,
Yet it took five minutes to make a bloody scene,
I tried I tried I tried I think,
Not hard enough though because I still drew with ink,
This is the last time I'm going to do this though,
Which is the same thing I promised myself seven days ago,

I was seven days clean,
And although during that time my thoughts were not serene,
For seven days I resisted the temptation to bleed,
However I did not continue to succeed,
And now there is a red mess on my wrist,
Making me feel shameful for I couldn't just resist,

I was seven days clean,
And now I am unclean,
How can I feel so much regret for again making my skin red and rough,
But also dissatisfied that I haven't done enough,
Because instead of being proud of the progress I made,
I am filled with the guilt and shame for once again picking up the blade,

I was seven days clean,
And now I'm not, but I'm only sixteen,
My score of seven has been reset back to zero for hopefully once more,
But the red marks will show everyone that I lost my high score,
And once again they will be disappointed in me,
Yet for seven days I was free.