They say writing reflects a writer's experience.
What experience shall I narrate to my readers then?
There has been happy times and there has been times that were sad.
I had a decent childhood, my adolescence was however far from pleasant.

my scars as a kid are happy memories to be reminisced,
the scars I endured as a teen are a shameful reminder of my mistakes.
I wish I was braver,
like the time when I held on to my bicycle when my dad let go of it for the first time.
I wish I had been patient,
like the times I waited alone at home while my parents were at work.
I wish I had loved myself more.

Anger is a powerful emotion
and I, am its slave.
it conquered me time and again while I stood by,
like the brink of an ocean ready to be engulfed by its waves.
it made me powerful and helpless at the same time.
I destroyed myself and those around me.

my mind is now a graveyard with a million buried memories,
while my body bears numerous scars of shame;
difficult to hide, and impossible to overlook.

it was oddly satisfying,
to see the blood flow to a point,
where I didnt feel the need to vent out my anger and frustration.
I would lay there for hours
until the dizziness fades.

my body tenses
as I recall all the wrongs I have done to myself,
I question myself now and often,
how will I ever love someone else if I couldn't even love myself?

it's been six years and I'm still haunted by those memories,
the smell of the blood,
the sharpness of the blade,
images I try hard to push back into the abyss of my mind.

I wish I was stronger,
I wish I was braver.

-rpg