(TW: mentions of self harm. Wrote this one a long time ago.)

Don’t do it

Not again

Not today

It’s barely healed

You can’t let them know

If they know then

You’ll be gone

There will be nothing left of you

They’ll take you to a doctor to “fix” you

But they can’t erase the memories

Maybe they’ll give you pills to “help” you

But they can’t create joy

Only suspend it in midair

Just out of reach

And when you

Reach for

It your

Fingers

Touch

Empty

Air

So

Keep

R

E

A

C

H

I

N

G

Your wrist touches a blade

You strained your arm

You went too far

Stop these games

The blood gives you happiness

Have you reached it?

Have your fingers finally touched-

But no

This is artificial

Stuff the blood back in there

Watch it heal

Day by day

Never wear a short skirt

Until it is gone

Only then may you reach again

And maybe one day

your fingers will brush past the knife

Without second thoughts

And temptation will be gone

And you’ll be ok

.

.

.

But not yet