Archive | November 2016


I found my first blades today

that I used to seperate my skin with purpose.
the first, a razor blade- given by a friend

as part of a repair kit

that I used for many years

before trying to fix myself at 45˚

with a quick motion

faster then hesitation

biting my lip

I thought “that wasn’t so bad”

and kept it with a lighter, bound with a rubber band.
The second, a little knife- 

glimpsed at a stationary store

I saw it in a new light

and I bought it with a purpose in the back of my mind.

just in case I needed it someday

always a good thing to have

because someday came around quick.
I found my first blades today

digging through some stuff I had stashed with a friend

Packed in a tool kit

the things I brought from home.

It’s a strange feeling.
I found my first blades today

Spotted with rust around the points

where the coating had worn off from being sterilized with fire

 because that was my system.

I remember tucking them into my things

“just in case”

I remember thinking

I would have expected myself to have gotten into something like this long ago.
In retrospect, I did. 

but in a way too subtle for myself

pinches and scratches with nails clipped to points for defense

against others, or myself.

There was a mechenical pencil

with a metal tip

and one day I found out that if I jabbed it into my skin

at the right angle

blood would rise from the scrapes

If I drew a my nails across my body

I could raise lines of red and white

and for a while, it was enough.

I’ve always kept it a secret

less out of shame 

more out of being a shitty test case

just some emo trash

who wanted to hurt herself 

in a more romantic way

who thought

“I just want to see what it’s like is all”

driven less by depression

than a mix

of curiosity, emptiness, apathy

who pushed past the fear of willing harm

and turned around to find it gone

like confronting a monster in a dream

and finding it harmless