This was written in a really dark spot, and it's not something I'm proud of but it did happen. I hope there is a lesson written somewhere in my messy thoughts but if not, please know you are not alone in what you feel and that if you can relate to this, that there are always people who love you. Let your pain be a lesson and not a rock that drowns you.
The Beauty of Rock Bottom
A poem
By Ysabella Susim
I don't know if I did it as a punishment or release.
It came naturally to me in a state of despair that was building up and up and up.
The first marks were full of anger and rage at myself and only myself.
Every mark after was filled with a sense of loss and pity and depression that came to be after months of walking in the dark.
I've made poor decisions for too long and tonight it came to a peak in blood across skin, in straight, crisscrossing lines that are like a beautiful, red mural.
Perhaps it's a bit demented, but the crimson welts on my arms are so beautifully enchanting, I cannot stop grazing at them.
Each pass of my fingers brings a sting of pain that reminds me of the pain that drove me to creating them.
It is odd to think that anything beautiful can be born from pain.
The twenty-eight lines that mar my skin are a mural to me. They are badges of the night.
I am in no way saying that I'm proud that they're there—
I'm honestly ashamed that it went so far—
But they are scars to remind me to do better than rock bottom.
The only way out is up, and these marks are here to remind me of that.
Surely there is a little beauty there.
YOU ARE READING
A Series of Ephemeral Tales
Cerita PendekA collection of random blurbs, short stories, poems and one shots for the sake of overcoming writers block or letting out my most inner thoughts! Please enjoy!
