Spiral Staircase
Wantings
The urge, want and need.
She tries her best to not think about it again.
That first day she did it, was beautiful.
The pain wasn't there, only the sight of the razor sliding across her bare skin.
Seconds later there's a tiny cut, blood starting to ooze out.
It amazes her how easy it was, how harmless.
She does it again, till there's three little cuts.
Three cuts is all she does.
Scared now of what she might do in the future.
If those three little cuts were so easy, what else will be?
Hiding
So easy to hide it.
It's invisible.
Not there to anyone but me.
Only I know and see those three cuts.
Red-ish around the outside.
Brown where it scabbed over to heal.
A reminder of what I did.
Beginning
It wasn't like me not to do it.
I've had the thoughts.
First I just scratched.
No razor at all.
But to scratch hurt and didn't really do anything.
I didn't want the pain.
Yet the stress was to much.
I had to do something.
The pain took the stress away.
Took everything away, like it was never there.
One year
In one year, the scratching began.
Once there was one scratch, the others followed.
But I was stronger than them.
I did it at least once a month.
Depending on the circumstance.
Some times it wasn't even once a month.
There were several months in between.
All together, that one year, I had probably scratched at least for a week.
Home
It wasn't horrible here. Never was or is.
Just a lot of responsibility.
Taking care of the family.
Helping out.
Carrying the weight of everyone.
It's to much for one kid.
Overwhelming one would say.
I love my family, but it just starts to be to much.
So of course one would go crazy after a while, right?
It was just a matter of time, a matter of time...
Not here
Staring at a tack, zoned out from what everyone's saying.
That tack is just a snatch away.
It'll scratch the skin, leaving a raised red bump.
I wanna do it badly, but there's a few things stopping me.
Then again, like freak it, those things don't matter to much right now, right?
The tip, shiny and pointed.
No one's paying attention to me.
Usually no one is. I have the chance.
I always have the chance.
I hear my mother ask me a question.
Resurfacing me from the space.
Answering than going back to the space.
If only they knew my thoughts, right?
Maybe than they would try and do something.
See Her
Seeing her about to break down and cry.
Watching the tears that wanna come out.
It eats me and i'm not sure how to help her.
I should show some love.
Should be more affectionate.
But don't know how.
It's hard to show when brought up with none.
It's hard to do anything now a days...
Saving me
He saves me when I wanna drown.
When i'm ready to give up.
Sometimes he's not here for me.
It's not his fault though.
Without him, I don't wanna live anymore.
There's others who save me.
His is just stronger, more effective.
I listen to him.
His touch, words, love, it's everything.
It's more amazing than a razor being pulled across the skin.
© BearlyRaquel
The urge, want and need.
She tries her best to not think about it again.
That first day she did it, was beautiful.
The pain wasn't there, only the sight of the razor sliding across her bare skin.
Seconds later there's a tiny cut, blood starting to ooze out.
It amazes her how easy it was, how harmless.
She does it again, till there's three little cuts.
Three cuts is all she does.
Scared now of what she might do in the future.
If those three little cuts were so easy, what else will be?
Hiding
So easy to hide it.
It's invisible.
Not there to anyone but me.
Only I know and see those three cuts.
Red-ish around the outside.
Brown where it scabbed over to heal.
A reminder of what I did.
Beginning
It wasn't like me not to do it.
I've had the thoughts.
First I just scratched.
No razor at all.
But to scratch hurt and didn't really do anything.
I didn't want the pain.
Yet the stress was to much.
I had to do something.
The pain took the stress away.
Took everything away, like it was never there.
One year
In one year, the scratching began.
Once there was one scratch, the others followed.
But I was stronger than them.
I did it at least once a month.
Depending on the circumstance.
Some times it wasn't even once a month.
There were several months in between.
All together, that one year, I had probably scratched at least for a week.
Home
It wasn't horrible here. Never was or is.
Just a lot of responsibility.
Taking care of the family.
Helping out.
Carrying the weight of everyone.
It's to much for one kid.
Overwhelming one would say.
I love my family, but it just starts to be to much.
So of course one would go crazy after a while, right?
It was just a matter of time, a matter of time...
Not here
Staring at a tack, zoned out from what everyone's saying.
That tack is just a snatch away.
It'll scratch the skin, leaving a raised red bump.
I wanna do it badly, but there's a few things stopping me.
Then again, like freak it, those things don't matter to much right now, right?
The tip, shiny and pointed.
No one's paying attention to me.
Usually no one is. I have the chance.
I always have the chance.
I hear my mother ask me a question.
Resurfacing me from the space.
Answering than going back to the space.
If only they knew my thoughts, right?
Maybe than they would try and do something.
See Her
Seeing her about to break down and cry.
Watching the tears that wanna come out.
It eats me and i'm not sure how to help her.
I should show some love.
Should be more affectionate.
But don't know how.
It's hard to show when brought up with none.
It's hard to do anything now a days...
Saving me
He saves me when I wanna drown.
When i'm ready to give up.
Sometimes he's not here for me.
It's not his fault though.
Without him, I don't wanna live anymore.
There's others who save me.
His is just stronger, more effective.
I listen to him.
His touch, words, love, it's everything.
It's more amazing than a razor being pulled across the skin.
© BearlyRaquel