By alie gittens

yes the cuts are small
but he pain is deep.
why do i cut?
i suppose it’s because i hope to
drain all the pain from my body.
Besides it only hurts for a little while
then your arm grows numb
and you don’t feel the knife anymore.
Just the tears rolling down your face.
The cool wet beads of depression falling
from your red, bloodshot, eyes
So if it doesn’t really hurt, why cut?
Because you have no other choices
you’ve tried everything.
The therapist can only tell you
what you already know.
And the medication?
Just a false happiness.
So am i crazy?
no i’m a genius.
i’ve found a way to stop distress
cut and cry.
But not for the pain.
No.
For the limit of choices.
Okay, makes no sense.
Maybe i am crazy.
Wait.
I got it.
I’m an artist.
yes, yes an artist.
Not a poet,
not a musician
but a painter.
As the blood flows i paint my world in my head.
Pull out my palette.
Don’t have one.
I’ll use my arm.
Blood for red.
Veins for blue.
Skin pigment for yellow.
I’ll paint myself with manic depression.
I’ll paint my world with confusion.
And you with horror.
That constant look you have in your eyes
as you look at me.
Don’t look at me with those eyes.
Your expression kills me.
The disappointment you have.
And don’t look at my scars and cry.
I do it so you will have no reason to cry later.
Instead look at me with your heart
and try to understand
why i must do this.
why i cut.