(TW) Negativity

Author’s note: This can be triggering to some people, so this is your warning. This post will contain mentions of cutting, blood, and depression. I have never cut and am just describing how it’s been described to me, and I do not encourage or promote this behavior. If you are considering cutting or suicide please reach out for help.

National suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255

The poem will begin further down

Out from the cuts on her wrists streamed a plethora of words,

Negativity she had been taught,

Negativity that she had willed into reality,

Negativity she wished would go away,

and maybe that split second of euphoria,

and the feeling of drops of blood streaming down her arm and falling to the floor,

felt worth it to her.

The painted and painfully carved “Masterpiece” that resided on her arm

cleansed the pent up negativity from her.

Even if it was just a for a second.

She longed for more of that freedom,

until she was lying on the floor dead,

unable to register any pain or feelings.

After all,

blood loss is very serious.