Five

Everyone has a bad habit or two…

Something they’d never tell.

I’ve got a bad habit of my own

That might just land me in Hell.

 

Safety pins in the box near my bed

Help me deal with the things I feel.

Watching with fascination through tears

I forget that the scars don’t heal.

 

At some point I realized I have to stop

Before somebody finds out.

So last week I gathered up the pins,

Hoping that I could do without.

 

I’ve gone a lot longer without it,

But this time I feel a small shift.

Despite the constant obsessive thoughts,

I feel like this chance is a gift.

 

I can get through this, if I try…

But is this change only a lie?

Will need for attention or loneliness

Send me spiraling back into the abyss?