I miss it...

I miss the pain.

I miss the shame.

I miss the crimson line I'd put on my arm.

I miss the blade I had used to self- harm.

I miss not being able to feel.

I miss not knowing what was real.

But I don't miss shielding my heart.

I don't miss not knowing where to start.

I don't miss being confused.

I don't miss being self- abused.

I don't miss having to pay the cost .

I don't miss hurting those friends who I have lost.

I miss the adrenaline rush.

I don't miss watching the blood gush.

I miss the cutting "high".

I don't miss wondering if I am going to die.

I miss hiding that half of me.

I don't miss feeling so empty.

I miss that feeling from the blade.

I don't miss all the cuts or the scars it made.