I walk around,
holding my arms in tight.

I feel like an empty soul,
no life, no soul inside.

I cut to get rid of pain,
only to see you.

When I look at you
I get sad, angry, confused, and envious.

I could walk past you,
and you wouldn’t say a word.

I feel more pain,
it’s not your fault, it’s mine.

I can’t control my feelings,
as well as you can.

I wish I could talk to someone,
instead of cutting myself.

I walk around outside,
holding my arms in tight.

I find you,
only on accident.

You speak,
as I was turning away.

“Come and join me?”
I turn and walk over.

Nothing is happening,
nothing is being said.

So I turn to walk away,
you grab my arm “Wait!”

You continue saying,
“I know I have caused you pain.

I’m sorry,
I had no idea it became this.”

Lightening your grip on my arm,
pushing back my sleeve.

“Trust me you didn’t caused them all.”
I reply.

You let go of my arm,
looking at each other intensely.

Pushing a lock of hair
out of my face you say.

“You are beautiful no matter what,
don’t forget it.”

I’m stunned,
confused.

I look at you,
you having a soft look on you face.

I say,
“What does that have to do with this?”

Lifting the sleeve
so scares show.

“You might cut
because you think you’re ugly.”

You say,
still having a soft look.

I’m appalled,
all I could do is stare.

I reply a little later,
“I cut to get rid of pain.

Not because I’m ugly,
you don’t know.”

Now it’s your turn to look,
shocked and appalled.

You didn’t reply,
you looked.

You lean in closer,
I’m starting to shudder.

I don’t know
what you are doing.

Closer you come.
My eyes darting every direction.

Closer you come,
arms rising.

I’m ready for anything,
but not this.

Your arms,
wrap around me.

I’m ready for everything,
but not this.

I except,
tighter your arms become.

We embrace,
I cry into you.

You lean you head down,
stroking my hair.

Tears pour out,
from my face.

Tears pour out,
from the sky.

Tiffany Dyer
8/14/04


 
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