The Insane are Flawless Too

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A turbulent mind

never stopped me from

living.

I've lived through panic attacks,

breakdowns,

three

attempted suicides.

I've experienced pain

that

pushed me

to where thoughts

of dying possessed 

me completely.

And I've the scars to prove it.

 

Look, 

at my arms.

Where cuts invade the

once soft, 

smooth surface.

Scars that were onced

slit

wide open

uncovering the 

dark,

harrowing demons

that

lived within

me.

Cuts where

smooth, velvet, crimson blood

sailed 

down

to my

wrist.

A deep, red contrast

to my

white, scarring

arm.

 

 

Look,

at my knuckles.

Where my teeth have scraped

against the hard, white bone.

Fingers that stuck itself 

inside me.

Fingers that assisted me

to purge out

burning bile and

despicable filth

that I stuffed

down my throat.

The dirtyness inside of me 

cried out to be

released.

And I succumbed to those cries

in my weakest,

fragile

moments.

 

Look, 

into my mind.

Where documents

of my insanity

have been

stored.

My mind;

where I can

repetitively watch

each and

every attempt

to down one,

two handfuls

of pills,

So that I

would not have

to wake up

ever

again.

 

 

I played a game with myself then.

One minute, 

one pill. 

It sounded fun.

I was on the tip of insanity,

and this sounded fun.

I wanted to die. 

There were three attempts

to kill myself.

But I didn't die.

Maybe it's because I never took enough pills,

or maybe it's because I was never meant

to die.

 

 

And now look.

Take a close look

at me.

Yes, as turbulent as ever,

but with a stronger,

collective, happy,

and calm

persona.

My wounds have covered themselves up.

I've created prisons

to keep the devils inside me

from escaping, and executing

their sinister plans

in this head of mine.

 

 

I've many stories to tell.

Point out a scar, and I'll tell you it's story.

I'll deliver to you

poetic words

from what was once

an unbearable pain.

I can turn every scar

into a beautiful painting,

and their stories into

heartwrenching poems.

I can conjure up a beautiful mosaic,

of both darkness and light.

I can create something beautiful

from something dark.

Maybe

thats what I'm trying to do 

with myself.

 

 

Now I'm living,

I'm happy,

and I'm leading

myself on the path

to success.

And if surviving,

pushing,

and living doesn't make me

flawless,

then I don't know what does.

 

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