A Truth To Me Poem by Heather Kemper

It's what I do
when all alone.
When I want to cut
to see blood and bone.
When I feel it is right and just,
to rip tear pound and punch.
To shred myself
for every wrong.
For not being enough
smart or strong.
For not being the right daughter
mother or wife
I see in me
a darkness no light.
Still I try refrain from such
because he asks
and asks with love
I don't want
to pass on my disease
of self torture and pain.
My children I want of this to be freed.
It's not their punishment
they should not not bare.
It's mine alone
for myself to share.
And here I write
instead of bleed
because then they won't suffer
even more on me.
I know I'm useless
I'll never measure up.
I'm selfish and wrong
for not making the choice that's tuff.
To punish me as I deserve
ends up hurting them
with more than words.
So here i sit
and write things down.
inside I still cut
where it can't be found.
Though no longer seen
by any one clear.
I close my eyes
they begin to tear
alone, angry
what I hate I fear.