Warning

Cloth can’t cover enough,

Eventually all will be exposed.

You try to sneak by,

“Don’t let them see you cry.”

 

The blood has a calming effect,

It reminds you that you’re alive.

Watching it flow,

But never letting it show.

 

Being around people,

Brings on more anxiety.

“If they could only see,

What would they think of me?”

 

You pull the sleeve down to your palm,

But, it still bleeds.

Walking down the hallways,

Completely lost in a daze.

 

He saw

And the warning sirens wailed.

 

Now they’re almost healed,

Although you still feel the need to cut.

You can’t help but be scared,

But you try to stay prepared.

 

“If he really did see,

Then when will it get out?”

You worry he’ll tell,

And that you’ll never get well.

 

The thoughts buzz through your mind,

And you hear the bell ring for class.

You go to wash your hands,

“No one ever understands!”

 

Thinking that you’re alone,

You roll up your sleeve,

But, too soon, another student comes in,

And you don’t have time to cover your skin.

 

She saw

And the warning sirens wailed.

 

It’s been years now,

You’ve gone through so much.

It was no easy fight,

But at least now you’re alright.

 

The stigma still remains,

It’s a hard thing to grasp from an outside view.

But others are still hiding,

And who’s there for them providing?

 

You walk around in a t-shirt,

Not giving a thought to your old shame.

You’re no longer scared,

You believe scars are stories to be shared.

 

You keep your head held high,

Walking through the supermarket,

With your son, who’s only three.

And your scars open for the world to see.

 

They saw

And the warning sirens failed.

This poem is about: 
Me

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