Underneath those sleeves

I will tell you if you are willing to listen,
though the words are hard to find,
I will let you see the honest truth,
spoken from a cutter's mind.

The razorblade became my very best friend
in my young teenage years,
I released the pain that hid inside
through a different type of tears.

The shining, sharp edges of my only friend,
so soon to hit a vein,
crimson rivers forming patterns,
- the bittersweet sort of pain.

My soul so slowly disappeared,
I could feel that it was gone,
but I never really had the time to care,
for I had my blade to rely on.

I always made sure to fake my smile,
I never gave them a reason to worry,
but each and every crimson scar
hid a secret story.

Every day, the same routine,
I put on my fake disguise,
and the razorblade helped me remove the pain
they could not read from my eyes.

Everything was dead in this uncaring world,
yet they didn't see how it hurt,
I couldn't express the pain I felt,
just choked on every word.

Therefore I relied on my dearest friend,
the one who pain releases,
my life was like a blackened puzzle
full of missing pieces.

But there was one piece that was missing
from the very painful start,
and I believe that missing piece
was the one that belonged to my heart.

They say they understand how I feel,
but the truth is, they never do,
you will never understand self harm
unless you have gone through it too.

I have been judged because I cut,
and each time it just gets tougher,
but before your prejudices start to unfold,
remember - I didn't choose to suffer.

It was not my choice to live like this,
have it run through every vein,
I did not choose to die inside,
to live my life in pain.

You may see someone shining, smiling,
but remember that depression deceives,
for that person may be hiding the darkest secrets
underneath those sleeves.

©