Alone

I bet you didn't know

I bet you didn't know this.
Two is the busiest time
For a self harm hotline.

Imagine this:
It's two in the morning
And you're all alone.

It's just you, pain, and a lot of regret.
No one else is awake.
No one else cares.

I bet you didn't know
That it's almost impossible to stop
After you start it.

It's unfulfilling,
Only a brief pain
And it leave you wanting more.

I bet you didn't know
How badly it hurts.
At least, I hope not.

I hope you don't know
The sting of a blade,
The color of blood you forced out.

It hurts in the shower,
It stings like hell
And you know it.

You know it's your fault.
You did it.
Perhaps that's the point.

It's something you can control.
You are in charge.
It's all yours.

It leaves you empty.
It leaves you wanting more.
It can't satisfy you.

I bet you didn't know that
It stings.
Mentally, not just physically.

And it stings
When you cry yourself to sleep,
And during the restless nights too.

It stings when you wake up,
Realizing you scratched it,
Realizing it's bleeding again.

It stings when you get up,
Trying to carry on your day
Acting like it didn't happen.

It stings when
You brush against something,
When it gets bumped.

And that awful sting
Is a constant reminder
Of how disgusting you are.

Normal people don't do this.
Normal people are happy.
Normal isn't something you know.

You are so broken,
And so fake
And no one knows it.

You are an actor,
Perfect at faking happiness,
Fantastic in deceiving others.

You lie so much
That you believe it,
That maybe you are okay.

The scars say different.
The fresh ones don't lie.
The words you carve tell all.

And you try to stop,
But you know
You deserve it.

For whatever reason,
You deserve it,
It's your fault.

You wouldn't wish this
On anyone,
Not even your worst enemy.

But for some reason you deserve
To be hurt, to suffer,
To cut.

I deserve to be hurt.
I deserve it all.
I don't deserve help.

I earned the pain.
And as I argue with myself to stop,
I know I can't.

As I cry out,
Begging myself no more,
My hand moves.

It moves on it's own.
It drags over and over and over
Until it punctures.

And I deserve it all.
I only wish,
It hurt more.

I only wish,
That it would just
Bleed a little bit more.

It's my fault.
I'm worthless, disgusting,
And I deserve it.

I deserve it all.