I Thought I Controled It, But It Controled Me. Poem by Silence Dogood

The lines cross my skin.
My story of scars.
Pink and fading.
I haven't cut.

Each day is a struggle.
To be free of it's grasp.
Coming closer to release.
I haven't cut.

I try to understand.
All the reasons why.
Waiting for normalcy.
I haven't cut.

Explain the excuses.
While waiting for evidence.
To fadeaway.
I haven't cut.

I haven't cut, in a while.
I just need normalacy.
I can't cut again.
For I want to be free.
Just tear from the blade.
And find new release.
A way to escape.
To finally be me.