I see my family, and how happy they are.
I look inside myself and wonder where I went wrong.
I close my eyes and of my past.
I think of my father dying and me being 10 and watching him die.
I remember trusting a friends dad, and him breaking that trust.
I remember him abusing me for 3 years straight and I couldn't get away.
I remember how I felt when I seen those pictures.
I look down at my arms and I see my arms and what I have become.
I think of how I feel when I feel the razor blade going across my wrist and I being to smile and can't wait to get home.
I see photos in my house of this perfect girl that was once me.
I get anger and can't control myself no more.
I run to my room and lock my door.
I grab my best friend, and yet my worst enemy.
My blood stained razor blade.
I hold it to my wrist and being to slide it across.
I complete it and watch the blood drain out,
I feel as if the blood represents some of the pain that I feel.
I watch it drip out and I feel relieved.
I go to bed feeling ashamed,
because I am letting my addiction get the best of me.
What am I going to do?
What if my mom finds out I am at it again?
I begin to cry and feel like there is no way out of this addiction.
I grab my razor blade.
I am back to where I started.
I decide after this cut, it was going to be my last time.
I look at my arm and I see so many unwanted scars and so much anger.
I feel that it is time to heal.
No longer do I look at my arm and feel anger.
I now feel strength.
