It's sometimes hard to grasp

that people can't fight their inner battles.

Because some of us weren't aware we were in the middle of a war zone

and wanted to take a stroll, only to get a bullet in our chests.

Some of us need immediate medical attention,

but afraid we're being selfish to ask for help because there are so many others

who have similar wounds, or have it even worse.



It's sometimes hard to realize

that we need someone to stitch us up

so that we can walk another mile, until one is ten.

Because life is about falling, getting up, and walking farther.

But, some us need a new leg, because ours was cut off.

Some of us like playing with fire, some of us terrified.

But no matter what, all of us feel the burn - the heat.



It's sometimes hard to speak up

because we've been shown too many times we aren't normal.

So many of us are crying over the kitchen sink, ice cubes in hand.

Because that's the only way to get the impulse to fade.

It's hard to ask a simple request, because then it feels so much more real.

We don't want people to notice our fake smiles, or forced laughs.

And we're afraid to climb life's mountain,

because the more you go up, the harder your fall will be.



It's sometimes hard to recognize

that it's okay to be afraid or feel like it is the end of the world

But it's also important to know, it will be okay.

We all need swim past the sharks and riptides,

but it's also okay to have someone pull you out the water for a breath.

Maybe your mound is still bleeding, but it will heal.

Some of us are scared to breathe because we've seen what poisonous gas does.

So it's okay to ask for a gas mask, just make sure you pass it on.



It's sometimes hard to fathom

a time where you'll smile for you, instead of someone else.

Or to take the leap between trees, but you have to because the forest is burning down.

Some of us can't get to the finish line without a drink of water.

But we still have to keep running on the track.

Even if you have to lie to yourself at first.

But, if we want to be happy, we have to make sure

the happiness we seek is worth a decade of wars for.

Dark room
She can barely see her hands, which should be shaking...
Quaking under the enormity of what she is about to do...
Hard chair
Feeling like a plush armchair...
She finds the straight uncomfortable back a solace to her soul
Cold blade
Glinting in the moonlight that creeps in through drawn curtains...
Winking at her...
Taunting her...
Daring her to do it if she thinks she is brave enough...
Cream and peaches skin
A canvas for her gruesome, beautiful artwork...
Networks of scars
Each a story on it's own
Raised skin on her wrists,
Blemishes on her arms
Beautifully hideous...
A storm of emotions
A raging whirlpool, a screaming vortex
Threatening to draw her in, **** her into it's depth...
She screams internally, looking for a way out,
Begging for a form of release before she is lost as a sailor at sea.
And blade meets skin
In a whisper, a split second,
In a flash of steel, and a splash of red
The dam breaks open...
She sighs, relief coursing through her...
As she escapes her inner turmoil...

(Cutting Trigger Warning!)

She studied the blade
That she held in her hand
While she braced for the pain
She’d learned to withstand

It shined like the snow
On a cold winter’s day
And bit into her skin
In the same bitter way

It fell like the rain
Plummeting from the sky
It drenched her in pain
As it pummeled her thigh

She watched through dry eyes
She was too numb to weep
But her skin cried in blood
As the slick blade cut deep

But after each raindrop
Her blade rose like the sun
Desperate for warmth
She didn’t care what she’d done

And once it was over
Sunburns littered her skin
But for a breath she could feel
Despite the frostbite within