Tears run down her face as she stare at her reflection in her mirror, reaching a shaky hand to grab the purple makeup bag that held her dirty little secret.
Slowly, she pulls out the piece of glass she's seen plenty times before, allowing the purple bag to tumble to the floor.
She places the shard against her skin, as she allows her little secret to begin. Adding more and more pressure, allowing the shard to sink in.
Slowly, she admires her work, before more tears slip down her face and she whispers "Its not enough" And begins to cut again.
Finally, she allows the shard to fall, and buries her head in her knees as she allows the pain to seep through her newly found exits. Slowly lifting her head back after a minute or two to shake her head and whisper "No more. I'm done."
But she'll always come back the next day with new pain to release.
And her dirty little secret will always be there, waiting.
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Sorry this first part is pretty depressing, I suffer severely with depression and wrote this at a time when I just, alone, and needed something to vent too. My Mom and family hates be since I'm a mistake after a miscarriage, so this is all I had.
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Poems
PoetryA few poems I've written over the years. Warning, I have depression, most of them are really sad.
