**Please Note that this poem might not be suitable for everyone. It contains the following sensitive subjects: self-injury and suicide. **
Sliced- November 2016
It’s silent through the house.
No one is awake except her.
She has tears flowing down her face as she stares at herself with hatred.
She hates her smile, laugh, figure.
She hates her voice, frown, and hair.
She hates the person she has become.
She hates the person she was.
She just hates herself.
Her emotions are flowing freely because of the darkness that is over her.
The darkness that consumes her.
She has two little friends that smile at her with a sharpness that drew her breath.
Their invitation pulling her closer.
Just one kiss is all they want.
But one becomes two and becomes three.
Then she starts to crave it.
She becomes emotionless as the kisses leave her arms red.
Her emotions pouring out with the blood that drips like water from the faucet.
She goes deeper and deeper until it starts pouring faster until her head starts to feel light.
She smiles with glee as her emotions have turned off until she suddenly starts to feel again.
The two little blades call out to her soul until she sees nothingness again.
The blood rushes faster as her laughter startles the silent night.
Her piercing laugh wakes her family out of their slumber and they all look around for the light.
Seeing none they return to their soft little cocoon and rise sometime again around noon.
They wake with a start as someone yells that her heart was cut up and lying on her sleeve.
The little ones holler as they see the slaughter of their favorite aunt in all of her pain and despair.
The wails become louder as they feel they could have bothered to check in instead of leaving her be.
The death that they see makes them long for the glee that used to come from her broken little soul.
But no one had noticed the slices that showed when she had the courage to wear short sleeves.
Her slices were precise like how she cut her pie and no one has questioned those lines.
Now she’s bled out because of the shouts that caused her so much pain and grief.
No one had questioned her as she stood and left as everyone finished their meal.
Their uneducated thoughts really left her distraught and because of that she’s dead.
Now they’re all crying because they think they’re deserving of feeling her grief and pain.
But from where she’s floating she feels like gloating because she’s finally free.