cutting

cutting 

i know what you’re thinking. and no. 

it is not for attention, it is not for revenge,

it is not because i hate myself,

it is not to feel pain. 

leaving this world would mean

leaving too much behind. 

staying here means sinking deeper-

into loneliness, into hatred, 

into depression. 

i walk alone, i eat alone, i sit alone. 

i am not afraid of physical pain 

because it will never

compare to what i feel mentally. 

i like to think of myself as a glass doll. 

balancing perfectly on the top shelf 

smiling silently 

sitting still 

crying to be heard. 

my glass screams until it cracks 

and in those cracks 

those shattered windows 

cool steel blades rip my glass open, 

small tears sliding down my face 

as i draw back to critique my work. 

everyone. every. single. person. 

teachers, parents, councilors, therapists. 

they all tell me to open up to the world. 

i don’t think this is what they meant. 

opening myself with wounds is too literal

for society. 

they won’t know how to handle this. 

me. my world. my thoughts. 

fear. 

fear drives humans. 

sorry. 

i don’t make the rules. 

spiders snakes clowns darkness. 

those fears may belong to every human. 

past present or future. 

but not me. 

my fear…

my fear is inescapable. 

being alone with my thoughts 

cannot be cured with arachnid spray 

or a night light. 

so before you think,

before you assume, 

before you laugh and point and whisper and judge,

just remember. remember that 

you. don’t. know. 

everyone expresses pain differently. 

let me do it my way.