As I can feel the stitches slowly being removed from my skin, I felt the relief of finally being normal again.
I now have a scar in my chest. One that doesn't feel pain anymore. One that will be stuck with me until the day I die. The damage has already been done. Though the path is already clear, and my heart feels somewhat full, I will never forget the day I received that scar, that pain, that period in my life when I felt like I was dying.
I was on the floor. My heart was racing. It was somewhere in the middle of the night and the drugs were kicking in. I was falling asleep, slowly, slowly, it felt really weird, but at that time, I was okay with it, until I wasn't.
Now that the stitches are gone, I can finally feel myself get better.
It doesn't hurt anymore. I get it, people can step into my lives at some point and leave. It's okay. I can easily compare it to catching a glimpse of a cute girl walking down the street as I drive past. Of course I'll never see that girl again, I know it, but at least I saw her, and admired her, even just for a second. Even if I didn't know her name I still admired her. That's okay.
And even if I didn't know why you left, or how you truly felt, that's okay.
I am in bed. My heart is calm. It's somewhere in the middle of the night and to know that you're happy with how the world is treating you nicely... Slowly, slowly, I start to smile. I wasn't okay, until I am.
- "Stitches", August 30
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Seventeen
PoesíaLetters about the highs and lows of my seventeenth year of life. [EXPLICIT CONTENT, possibly. Please read this at your own risk. If you are struggling with your own personal stuff, please do not hesitate to seek out for help. My dms are always open...
