Cutting and Coping with Grief*


*please note that this was written for my english class, where our professor wanted us to take an emotion and make it tangible and realistic for our audience. I embraced the challenge of the poem, and wrote what I believe to be an equivalent of depression. do not be alarmed, this isn't based off personal experience*

The cover of night and the shadows envelope me. Physically and emotionally I belong locked in a closet, which was exactly where I sat.
The hospitable darkness and gloom didn't object my arrival one bit.

 I wanted to cling to the shadows; I was trying to embrace a passionate emotion, but was it the wrong one?
My hands were preoccupied anyways.

 A dull set of crafting scissors in one shaking hand.
The other fisted up tight, tight enough to feel my nails biting my palm.

The pain of an edgeless blade is not crisp and clear; it’s thick with jagged edges.
Any attempt at not crying was pointless and futile.
I didn't cry for the smooth underside of my wrist, I wept for my heart that couldn't be fixed.

My expectations of our love ran wild and free, I never could tame those pesky little feelings.
But your heart was absent; residing with a girl who I thought was gone from your mind. Boy was I wrong.

The chattered and demented conversations I held with myself, telling me I don’t measure up. She’s prettier, she’s smarter, she’s skinnier.
I focus on the pain of the cuts and try to ignore the vile words I mutter to myself.

“It’ll get better”, my friend counseled from experience. But would it really? Pain this strong could kill a girl.
But no matter the advice, the dark thoughts were stuck like bugs in my head.

I like to tell myself that I tried to be strong, I tried to be brave.
But I wore a mask, and behind closed doors I was weak and insecure.

Even now I squeeze my eyes shut to close out the pain. Teeth clenched and lips pursed against the inevitable hurt.
And I see darkness, black and deep and endless like the wounds on my heart.

And I am one with the darkness and the shadows.
And I embrace the dark and hollow emptiness.





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