Starting it was as difficult as ending it
but did it end?
is this feeling inside me gone?
am i really safe? (from myself)
how is this going to end?

i don’t know the answers.
But i know how it started.

With a fight.
Most of the time starts with a fight.
A trouble, a scream, anger and fear working together. Fucking with your head, and freaking out everyone else.
You end up crying in your room, with your hands in your face all covered in tears, burning as hell.
There is this crazy party of emotions taking place in your brain and apparently they bring alcohol and shit.

So you’re trying to deal with that but you can’t.
You can’t stop it.
You hyperventilate and try to breathe and think about something coherent but you just can’t.
So all this thoughts come through your head from nowhere and suddenly, just for a second they make sense.
And only that, only that fucking second is enough for you to make sense.
You watch that piece of metal closely, it doesn’t matter what it is. But it’s going to become your special toy for a while, so get used to it.
The shit that is going on in your head is so strong that skin and hurting it’s like when you were a child and you grab this massive crayon and put all your strength to draw in that page.
It’s not too different here.
So skin is like a paper where you draw your shit and suddenly you don’t feel anything.
You are a second person in the room, watching yourself while drawing in your skin and you can’t stop it.
Maybe you feel some pain because the most reasonable part of your brain is telling you that you are being hurt, but you just don’t listen.
I don’t care anymore.
It all ends and you are now calmed. But you can’t erase the drawing.
No.
It’s permanent. Maybe forever, who knows. Like a tattoo. Anyway,
you go on and it’s all good.

Probably trying to hide it, even if you didn’t choose a good place, you know it’s there every time because now it hurts.
And it hurts as hell.
Better think about it next time. And showering? Hot water? You fucked up, double hurting. Maybe it’s recovering up you should leave it there.

But life is not that great.

There is always a second fight, a third fight, a millions fights.
Shit happens.

And all you can remember is that one time that you calmed yourself by drawing.
Is it dangerous? It became therapy for you maybe. Is it good therapy?

I don’t know.
I’m still alive, right?

And suddenly the drawing is everywhere. Maybe now you choose a place, but it’s all covered, so you got to reuse it.
It’s summer and it’s hot,

Why are you wearing socks?

The only floor you touch with you feet is your room. It hurts more and more and you can’t stop.
Now a crisis is not a excuse.
You are just bored and feel like drawing. Now you can personalize them. Even create something new.

Is this art?
People say is not an option. I don’t believe them, do they pass through this?
I don’t think so.

I think someone saw me in the streets. I wasn’t careful enough. I can’t let that happen again. Now i’m worried..

When people look at me i freak out. Did they saw it? Are they staring at me by that? I’m desperate.

But it feels so good.
And i cry. I cry so badly because it hurts. And now i don’t mean the drawings. I mean life, and stuff. You can feel good for a while by smoking, doing drugs, alcohol, and shit like that.
My drug was self-harm.

And the best of it is that it was for free.

But it doesn’t solve anything, really. Maybe it’s making it worse, a lot worse.

And talking? Maybe it’s not an option. Who would understand you?
Your parents? Fuck that.
Your friends?
What if they are scared, and don’t know what to do, so they call the police?

I don’t know, too dangerous.

I need someone like me.
Someone that understands me.

Where do i find you?
Are you there?, Are you out there?
Where do we meet?
What is your name?

Maybe i already know you.
You already know me.

But either of us talk about that shit.
Who talks about it anyway?

It’s fucked up.
Not a thing you would say normally.

Hi.. i’m.. yeah, i cut myself.
Shit doesn’t work like that.
And what’s worse, people is going to talk shit about you all of a sudden.

Maybe some stuff is going to make sense.
Sleeps in class, doesn’t look good, weird drawings in her homework.

It’s nothing.

Maybe you really fell down into the hole, and dare to give a big step.

And now.. you don’t do drawings.
Now, you just watch.
Very closely.

Like that one time that you were in that party in that roof. You got curious so you went to the edge to feel the wind. And watch the fall.
Maybe you throw something to see how it falls. For fun.

Or like that time that you were waiting the train to go home. And your hear it coming, so it’s time to get close to the platform.
You got really close and you can watch the rails, and maybe you throw something too. Just to see how it smashed it.
For fun.

Or maybe that time that you were in that friend’s house and they did a barbecue.
So you find this useless piece of paper and put it on fire just to watch it burn.
For fun.

All this situations are warnings, right?
Are they?
Or is it just for fun?

I don’t know, i don’t know the answers yet, but i figure it out.
Right?

This poem is amazing my friend. I know I personally don't know you, so I'm probably not going to be very good with my words. There's potential, there's oppurtunites, and most importantly, a future which could be amazing, an end of a tunnel of your doubt. But one thing that's for sure, is that things change. And I know this is heard a lot and might be annoying but "it get's better" waiting for it to get better could feel like an eternity, yet you never know: maybe you're almost there. Life can always turn around. I just hoped this helped shine a little light, be strong my friend and have a nice day :)

mikia your wrong life may knock you down endlessly but we all kep fighting, you may ask for what, it's because we have our hearts linked to certain people, and because we're human, that is all we need