Turmoil. You wouldn’t know it.
I hide it very well. No one can see it,
it’s hiding. How can I not hide it?
The way I feel is something
most don’t understand.
It hurts, the way I feel. As if I’m
a shadow, and no one can see
what’s really there, beyond the surface.
It’s good for it to be that way,
otherwise they’d think I’m some sort of freak.
Thoughts creep into my mind,
thoughts that scare even myself.
I’m not strong enough for this.
I cannot get the pain to leave.
There’s only one way I know for it to leave.
Heavy in my hand, it clicks open
for my use. Sharp and steady, across and down.
Sweet release comes at once.
Ghost white skin, slowly red it turns, thin
slices release my hurt and anguish.
Cool and soothing, out
flows the symbol of what’s inside of
me. It doesn’t hurt at all.
They wouldn’t believe me, but it doesn’t.
Nothing hurts like what’s inside.
Again I drag it, pressing it
hard. I am strong enough now. This
is something I know and understand.
I can feel this pain and think about it.
It’s easier to think of that instead of what’s inside.
This one is a bit creepy. I wrote it at a very hard time in my life.