Cutting is like a drug.
It first starts out by you hearing about it, hearing that it’s a bad thing to do.
Then once you get upset you see the sharpness of the blade staring at you.
Your mind takes over your actions, you forget about all the other ways to cope.
You then cut.
After you do it you feel the sense of relief, but hours later you regret it.
^^^^^^^^^^
Then comes another time where you get upset again.
You try telling your mind not to give in, but you do.
However unlike the first time the sense of relief isn't enough with just a few slices.
Each time you cut more and more to get the sense of relief, but each time you’re just tearing your body apart.
You have to hide the scars from everyone in fear that people will find out.
You then lie to the people you love saying you’re fine
. But you’re not fine
You’re dying on the inside, wanting help, begging for help, but you don’t want to worry them.
So you tell yourself you’ll be fine, it’s just a phase.
Its no longer just a phase, its become an addiction.
You live your life hiding how you feel.
Time and time again you try stopping, but you can’t.
The addiction keeps growing.
Its something that you just can’t overcome.
. You've become the perfect example of what cutting can do to a person.
It eats you alive; you sometimes can’t even get it off your mind.
And in the end,
You wish you never did it in the first place
YOU ARE READING
lost & confused
Puisithis is basically just some sucky poetry written by myself. I'm going through depression and this is how I basically feel.
