What you see in the mirror II

Poetry

And here’s another poem on the same theme:

A web of scars criss-cross my thighs
Each one an imprint of a troubled mind
When I wanted to escape my feelings
And could find no other solution.
Or I felt so empty I just needed to feel
Something.
Every line carved expresses the hurt
I felt inside at being alive
The pain
I felt inside at being alive
Each stroke of the blade testing me
Not to cut deep enough to hit an artery
But to cut deep enough to provide relief
This, after all, wasn’t a bid to die
But a bid to try to keep on living
It was not attention seeking
But instead a private paradise
Where I was in control.
I could not cry salty tears
But I could cry rivers of blood.