Just The Cat

what’s that?

oh, it was just the cat

she was clueless

 

what’s on your wrist?

oh, it’s just a scratch

i was working outside

it was from the plants

i fell against one of the rocks

 

“it seems you’ve been attacked”

“i’ve just been unlucky with my hands”

with my arms, with my legs

 

can’t ever explain anything to anyone

it’s too hard

nobody listens

nobody ever will

they’ve got it too good

they don’t know

i’m a pro at talking

while people pretend to listen

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

melissa.reisetter

This poem is about my struggling with borderline personality disorder, anxiety, and depression.  Forms of cutting are released in this poem.

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741