Last Scar

Copyright, Sara

I love how you’re always there for me.
You never want to see me sad.

I feel the same way about you,

So when I fail, I fall apart.

I’m tired of all my complaining
When in reality I have no room to.
So I thought maybe I could handle me by myself
Be the one to fix my own problems
And stop injuring others so much.

But I learned the hard way:
That when you act like things don’t faze you
And take the world of pain on by yourself
Inside the demons will drive you crazy.
Keeping them bottled up
Is like trying to stop a raging volcano…

I lost.
The volcano won.
I lost all control,
Because I have none.
Sorry, that wasn’t supposed to rhyme…

So in order to rid myself of mental pain
Which to me hurts the worst,
I tried to divert my attention to that which is physical.

It never hurt.
Only afterwards,
When I took a comfort shower.
And as the hot water rained down,
It burned.

“Self-Injury is more addicting than drugs”
My doctor once said to me.
And even though I cant compare it to drugs,
I’d have to agree whole-heartedly.

Once you start
There’s no stopping.
The immediate rush of the blade
Relieves you of all else.

It’s indescribable
And I’m sure your thankful for that.

I was hurting a lot.
I was hurting myself a lot.
I thought to myself:
I wont let anyone hurt me BUT me.
So there you go, I finally had control…

But I didn’t.
It got out of hand.
It got serious.
It got worse.

At the time I was mortified that you knew I did this to
my body.
I wished to myself:
Why hadn’t I hidden the scars better?
But now I’m the most thankful girl in the world.
You saved me.
You saved me in ways you’ll never know.
You saved me from the blade.
You saved me from insanity.
You saved me from pain.
You saved me from me.
I am my own worst enemy…

But now I know better.
You are on MY side.
And even though it’s nice to NOT be a hypochondriac,
Sometimes releasing your pain verbally
Is more productive than through the skin.
Actually, that’s the case at all times.

I’m sorry for all the times I scared you.
For all the times I hurt you
For all the times angered you
Annoyed you,
shamed you
and blamed you.

If I could turn back the hands of the clock,
I would do it in a second so you wouldn’t have to feel
all that.
You know me:
I don’t like to see anyone unhappy.

I guess it helps me to help others.
Since I can’t help myself.

But not anymore.
Oh no, you better believe that.
I’m on my way to recovery.
No more razors: they’re my present to you.
A symbol of the hope that I will be stronger.
A symbol of all the hope I got from you.
No more tears and no more fears.
We WILL make it,
We did make it

Please forgive my actions
From the past six months.
Just know that it’s all uphill from here.
I would say down but then that makes it sound like I’m descending
And I’m doing anything but that.

I know this poem was mostly about me and what went through my head.
I should be going on and on about how thankful I am for you
But there aren’t enough words in all the languages that can say it
So please accept this confession
From my heart,
as a gift
It’s mostly a gift for me
But to you I hope you’ll see it as a gift OF me.
Of my willingness to try.
Willingness to live.
Willingness to never give up hope.
You are my hope.
And I will never.
Give up.
On you.

Breaking the barrier

Copyright, Sara

“Ah but to be loving death and dying love”
You are the second and I the first.
I love that quote… I hate that quote.
Life is confusing
Thoughts even more so.
So I split the barrier and out leaks the knowledge of death.
The memory of this knowledge is a permanent tattoo on the walls of my city, graffitti for the body.
Rain from the face of the sky falls and washes knowledge away.
The memory, the memory fades.
It never completely vanishes, only fades.
Untill I split the barrier again
and again
and again.
Please stop me.


Copyright, Sara

Scar tissue has formed over once broken and bleeding flesh
Some scars are thin… light
barely noticable. Things weren’t as bad.
But others… others are think and long. Signs of deepness. Signs of suffering.
The one scar on my wrist shows boldly,
almost radiating out.
Glazing over the once broken veins.
Death lingered there only a moment,
decided to leave me to myself
and continued on his way.

Toto Meish Beta!

Copyright, Sara

Riddled with anger
with no understanding of why
I scream at the top of my lungs

The only barriers I break
are the walls of my city
letting the knowledge spill out
I’ve made a god of pain

Exhausted at every waking moment
tired all the time
tired of what life has to offer
which is’nt much of anything at all

Wanting to be six again
but stuck at sixteen
yet feeling more like sixty
why can’t I be happy?


Copyright, Sara

What happened? Was the last year and a half a dream? I swear for a while I was happy. What happened? It seems as if I were sleeping and it’s taken two months to wake up. I drifted off and dreamed of heaven and awoke to a life of hell. I don’t wish to laugh anymore. I don’t want to remember how to smile. A brief sence of happieness does more harm than good. I’d rather be miserable and lost than have a false sence of hope. I thought you were my knight in shining armor here to rescue me from myself. You weren’t a blessing but a curse, made of flesh and sent by God, or Buddha, or Satan. Here to taunt me and make me believe in love. But I suppose I’m all the wiser for it, all the more miserable as well.


Copyright, Sara

Everyday I wake up hoping to die, but truly all I can really do is cry.

The little voice insides says “grab the knife and do it!” but my friends would never let me go trough with it.

You can hold the feeling inside any longer, you grab the knife and start to ponder.

As you sit there ont he bathroom floor, you wait and wait and wait somemore.

Finally, you put the knife to your wrist, as you clench the memories in your fist.

“Do it, Do it” is all you hear, you feel a little pinch of fear.

You slide the knife across your wrist, little by little the memories will leave from your fist.

Your almost done, you’ll end being no one.

There you’ve done it, you fought that battle of fear and won it.

It’s over now there is no more, as you lie there on the blood covered floor.


Copyright, Sara

I hold this powerful tool in my hand, the shine from the blade catches my eye.

I have the powed to end it all, right here right now, but there’s no use, I’m already dead.

The pain killed me.

The tears drowned me.

And my heart bleeds to death, from life, the thing I never asked for. When I was young I never knew the pain others could give you. I never knew I would cry over a guy or wanting to die. I never knew my friends would betray me and just leave me to lay there. I never knew my parents would be the ones to make me bleed, because they used to be there when I was in need. I’m running out of hope, there’s nothing left to live for.

I’m alive outside and yet everything inside is dead.


Permanent location: