she sits in the bathroom stall
with a plastic knife in her hand
meserized by the blue walls
of the stall
is she really going to do this again?
is she really going to use this plastic knife?
the tension gets to her
the knife close to her leg
right next to the cuts from yesterday
with the scissors
the blood flowed down her leg that day
she didn't mean to cut so deep
so as she sits there with the plastic knife
she stole from the cafeteria
she remembers the pain she put herself through
and she deserved it
so she sits there,
in the blue bathroom stall
planning to never tell anyone at all
and saws at her leg
like she did yesterday
never telling a soul
she will have these scars forever
she will have to wear shorts with a bathing suit
she will sit in this stall
and cut herself until the bell rings
and she has to go to spanish class
and hide her secret from everyone
and go on as being a normal teenager
when her life is so fucked up she wants to die.
If any of you were wondering, yes, I actually did this. I wrote this poem as a freewrite for Humanities 8 class. It's a good thing I carried my freewrite notebook around with me, cuz this is very disturbing. I am sooo glad I stopped cutting. It's a really bad way to relieve stress. I hope I am never this bad again. And when I say "bad", I mean depressed. Being depressed fucking sucks. Lately, I haven't been doing too well. My mood is up and down, from depressed to happy. I think its the time of year. In the end, I will be fine, so don't worry. Why should I be depressed when I have such a good life? I have the most awesome friends EVER! I love you all and I am so greatful for you guys, don't ever think that it has anything to do with you when I get this way. Just know that I will be fine in the end, and I know how to manage my depression. I hope to never get as bad as I did, and I will do anything to make sure of it. When I wrote this poem, I was really into cutting hardcore. I was doing it like, six times a day. I never want to do it again. Ever. And I didn't cut because I'm "emo". I hate that steriotype so much. Just because you cut yourself, doesn't make you emo. Just because you wear black, doesn't make you emo. This is a steriotype that MTV has put into your fucking minds because they got bored one day! Steriotypes are retarded. End of that discussion. I cut because it is a stress reliever, but only for a moment. It leaves nasty scars and I regret it so much. I started cutting because when I was in 7th grade, I saw a psycologist, and she thought I was bipolar. She put me on Lithium. Yay, Lithium! That shit fucked me up so bad. I couldn't tell you a thing about those three months except that I cut myself because I couldn't feel. I was completely numb. I had no feeling at all. I don't even remember cutting myself. I just remember telling Kerrybeth and Theresa...Kerry was so worried. I think she even cried. I wanted to kill myself for hurting them. Theresa was worried also, but she kept asking me if I was ok, over and over again. I'm still mad at myself for even starting, but how was I supposed to stop when I wasn't even aware I started? Also, when I was on Lithium, I would choke myself until I passed out. I would also choke myself with a necklace in class. I have no memory of doing that, but I have been told by some people that I had classes in 7th grade with that I did that. I started cutting again last year in 8th grade, because I was really stressed and had a really really really bad view of myself. I thought I deserved it. Why? Because I was a bad friend. I was a bad daughter. I was a bad student. I was a bad sister. I was a bad person. I know that that isn't true now, but when you are depressed, maybe even clinically depressed, this is just the beggening of your thought process. Depression is something I will beat, and that is my promise to you, my family, my friends, and everyone, but most importantly, that is my promise to myself. I can beat this. I know I can. Just be there for me when I need you.
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