First Mark - Poem by Katelyn McKay
I sit cold, in the middle of a storm,
My tears falling like the rain,
My screams sounding much like the thunder,
My feelings seeming a lot like the lighting.
I look around for a way to feel better;
To my left is only a can of soda,
And to my right is a pen and some paper,
About to give up, I look down, and I see my soon to be new best friend.
I stare down at it; watching how it glistens when light hits it,
I pick it up finally and hold it up to my face,
It shows a distorted reflection of me,
It makes me feel like everything will be okay.
I next look at my unmarked wrist,
I can see my blue-green veins.
I sit, thinking about going through with this action,
I sit wondering if I’d feel much better after wards.
I soon after follow through,
Making my thoughts become actions,
My hand, the blade held tightly and pressed down on the skin, moves.
Causing me to wince from the little sting that comes with the red fluid.
At first I feel like a boulder has been lifted off of me,
But then when I look down at what I did to myself,
A feeling of guilt and fear comes over me,
I begin to think of how dumb the action of self harm was.
I promise myself that I’ll never do it again,
And yet I find myself, a day or two later, with my best friend in my hand.
And yet I find myself making more marks.
Scaring me with the horrible, and difficult memories of the past.
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