I cut myself
You can find the scars on my arms and legs
There aren't too many
They aren't too bad
But that is because when I started to need
deeper cuts
more frequent injuries
To ease my pain
I found another way to cope
A way that causes others to become addicts
A way that hurts me
But soothes me without scars
Alcohol was my addiction
What I used to ground myself
To bring myself to earth
To ease the pain
It was a replacement for the blade
But alcohol isnt safe for me
It landed me in the hospital
It almost killed me
Now I can't drink
Now I go back to scars
To cuts
To destroying my skin
My body
But a new replacement for the blade appears
Something that others get addicted to
Smoking is a new grounder
A new relief
I know my way of living isn't healthy
I cling onto a new addiction to stop the one I have
I don't know what else to do
So you tell me what's worse;
Destroying my liver, my lungs, or my body
YOU ARE READING
Blood Stains
Poetry*trigger warning* I'm lost•I'm broken•I'm hurt•I'm sorry ~the ones marked "x" are about my struggle with food and eating~
