my life is like broken glass.
I wrote this poem today at 1:21 am. It’s about a situation that happened just before.
In all those years,
I’ve built up a defensive wall.
It’s made of a thick layer of glass,
a thick massive wall of concrete,
and a thicker immense wall of marble,
with in the core the vulnerable and breakable me.
My defensive wall is that thick and strong that nobody ever came behind the wall of concrete.
My wall of marble stayed all that time unharmed and without a scratch.
But now that’s the past,
because you came into my life.
You took your gigantic wrecking ball to break my defensive wall,
and you did.
Only the marble was too strong to be demolished.
But you did scratched the marble.
You hurted a piece of me where nobody had ever been.
You got into one of my most vulnerable parts.
You made me realize that my defensive wall wasn’t that strong as I thought.
It broke me,
just like you broke my defensive wall.
It took me down,
like I was nothing.
But most of all,
I realized that nobody ever saw the real me.
I also never did,
I never knew what was the real me,
but you showed me a part of my real me.
You broke down that defensive wall,
and you showed me what was behind that marble.
Behind that marble was my real me,
but it was also so vulnerable and breakable,
that I knew I should cherish it.
I knew it would take a long time,
before I had uncovered the real me.
But you made me realize that I had to find out who I really am.
That I have to find my real me.
When i made this cut i was scared. I had just traded an ounce of weed for a brand new box cutter, a kid bought me from home depot. Stupid i know i could have got it myself but with your dad watching you every moment of the day it was kinda hard. I said it was for protection.. protection from my thoughts.. but he gave it to me. No other questions ask even knowing my history.
I went home a couple days past and then me and my parents got in a huge fight. With out even relising it i was slicing at my wrist. But then i cut to deep. I drop the box cutter adreniline racing throught me. I tried to breath but it was the first time i had ever gone this deep. My blood came out at a steady flow i put pressure. I wasnt aiming to die at this point.Â For once when i was cuttingÂ I felt OUT OF CONTROL!
I put pressure 5 mintues past i pulled the towel off to check my wrist i was still bleeding and the towl was soaked i layed down. Head pounding and my body cold i wraped a rubber band around my wrist with the towl on. I had no strength left in my hands to hold in on myself. I lay on the ground shaking, hoping my parents would wake up and find me. But they never did.. I woke up 3 in the morning laying in my blood. The rubber bands have done the trick after a while. I probally past out or fell asleep i dont know what happened first.
I cleaned my self by taking a shower then cleaned the floor, bandaging my arm. I went 3 weeks before i told my parents. This was cause it wasnt closing most of my cuts healed in 1-2 weeks. This one didnt heal for 5. After the doctors did a rock scrub to get all the dirt out of my cut they glued it shut.
When we got home my dad wanted to know what i had used to cut. I gave him a randomn pair of scissors.. and he DIDN’T question it.. HOW THE FUCK COULD I DO THAT WITH SCISSORS!
now 10 months later its a bright red scar. I keep my arms crossed to hide my hidous scars. I hate them.. and yet i still cut.
In my list of tools now i have
5 razors ( had 6 but my dad found one)
1 pair of scissors
1 box cutter
2 lighters ( ive never burned my self but i keep it incase cutting just doesnt work one night)
6 peices of glass ( from a glass i broke )
I also am always at the store buying a box of bandaids here. Gauze and other various things. Not to mention hand towels. Since i use them to help stop the bleeding. I cant wash them cause my parents would wonder so i just throw them away, and buy new ones. This is one of the storys i remember really well.. and i just thought i should share it.