Yesterday marks the first day I cut myself
I found a razor in my mother's makeup bag
I had had a rough day, my anxiety at its peak
I wanted to feel anything but this constant fear
And
When I saw the razor
I saw a solution to my problems
So I took it
I went to my room and tried distracting myself
I looked at my phone...
I listened to music up loud...
But the urge only became stronger as the minutes passed
My arm was throbbing
Persuading me to do it
My mind was purely thinking of the blade and how good it'd feel on me
I took the blade and lightly dragged it across my skin
Getting high off the pain
It was painful and I couldn't handle it no more
I stopped and I cried
And I was already craving my next cut
I can't look at sharp objects anymore without thinking how they'd feel against my skin
I can't hold them and feel comfortable
I don't look at them the same
Whenever I think of a certain part of my body
I think of how the scar from the razor would look like
How it would feel
I'm in pain
Emotional and physical
My emotions are in turmoil because I can't believe that I did that
That moment keeps replaying over and over in my head
I regret cutting myself
I wish I stopped myself
My arm aches as the physical aftermath of what I did
Those two seconds weren't worth it
YOU ARE READING
DISRUPTIVE THOUGHTS
Puisi"You turned away From yourself, Rejected yourself. You wanted to be cool, Not realising that The art of being cool Is mastered by yourself. Accepting yourself, Taking yourself As is" A bunch of standalone poems I wrote in the darkness of my room o...
