I am not the typical picture
That dances in minds when


Cutter


Self-injury


Depressed
Is heard
For I am not


Thick eye-liner


Donned in black


Pierced and hateful
I am quiet, I strive to please
I don’t want the world at my knees
And I can


Laugh


Smile


Sing
But I still feel


Pain


Terror


Forlorn
For whatever reason I am not
Like others
My world drowns me
Overwhelms me
So much I crave


Escape


Peace


Death

But none can be obtained
So instead I


Cut


Slash


Stab
My


Arms


Legs


Chest
To gain my bliss
To get my fix
Of endorphins
That smother my feelings
That I


Hide


Bottle


Avoid
Because I don’t understand
Because they hurt worse
Than the


Knives


Razors


Pins
I encase within my flesh
Than the


Blood


Physical pain


Tearing hide
I can comprehend
My flesh scarred
Bruised and broken
Tissue that speaks of


Loss


Guilt


Shame
Burning my wounded heart
So if you see my story
And think


Emo


Goth


Attention seeker
You are


Wrong


Blind


Ignorant
Of what cutting truly is
And why it’s done
And what pleasure it holds
Despite its


Gory


Bloody


Messy
Nature
It’s a habit
Just like your


Knuckle-cracking


Pencil-tapping


Nail-biting
Addictions with no answers
So don’t go searching
For my answer
To


Help


Save


Protect
Me
You won’t find mine if you
Don’t find yours
Leave my addiction answer
To me
For only I
Only me
Only myself
Can find it