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A Poem for Bad Days With Self-Harm

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Article updated August 5, 2019.

Editor’s note: If you struggle with self-harm, the following post could be potentially triggering. You can contact the Crisis Text Line by texting “START” to 741-741.

An empty room, an empty girl.

Sitting silent on the floor.

Her sleeve rolled up, exposing skin.

She drags the blade and presses in.

The pain it brings cannot compare.

To the joy she knows will soon be there.

It’s worth the scars that never heal.

For just a moment not to feel.

Just a cut, Just a scratch.

“Whats that mark?”

“It was the cat.”

Just an excuse.

Just a lie,

“Whats with all the bracelets?”

“Just fashion, why?”

Just a tear.

Just a scream.

“Why were you crying?”

“Just a bad dream.”

But is not just a cut,

Or tear, or a lie.

It’s always “just one more.”

Until you die.

Scars on your soul.

Scars on your skin.

Some on the outside.

Some are within.

Some have a story.

Some are unwritten.

Some you can see,

But most are quite hidden.

Hush little baby,

Don’t you cry.

Don’t cut your arms.

Don’t say goodbye.

Put down the razor,

Put down the knife.

It may be hard,

But you will win this fight.

From darker clouds,

And blackened skies,

Through deeper scars,

And all your lies.

She cried.

She wanted to die.

“I am fine”

She lied…

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741.

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Originally published: December 13, 2016
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