The thought of relapse often crosses my mind
Is it worth feeling that jolt down my spine
those goosebumps of exhilaration
that weight being lifted off my shoulders?
Three and a half years and it still feels like just yesterday
I was running a box cutter blade down my wrist
I never really had interest going from left to right
It was always down then up
Pushing deeper until I felt like it was enough
Was it ever really enough?
Was I ever really enough?
Yet
I still sit here, looking at that scar on my wrist wondering
"What if I went just a little deeper."
YOU ARE READING
Black Water Rose
PoetryDeep poems for the wandering, the lost, and those who are in between