Crimson River

Trigger Warning This poem contains suicide and self harm. This is something I wrote 2 nights ago.

------------ Crimson River ------------
White lines down my thighs
Reminding me of a time when I felt
Relief
From the pain screaming
Bottled up inside
Wanting out
The bloody past
I was 9 years old when the world first hit me
With its cold hands
Across the face
Like I was less than a punching bag
Blood streaming down my face
From the ring he wore
Like the crimson river that flowed from my scars
Intentionally
I'm so fucked
I don't even belong here
The only thing that ever made me human
Were those scars
Because if I never sunk that low
I would never know compassion
That was never taught to me
I had to learn it myself
By going through more than you could even imagine
But never talking about it
Because if I talk about it I have to let my guard down
And every time I do that I end up bruised and scarred
By people who told me they care
They love me
I don't even know if love is real anymore
If it's real then how come nobody ever gave it to me
Especially when I was 10 years old
With a bottle of pills in one hand
And no future in the other
They say if your heart is beating
You're alive
But I think I died a long time ago
And I don't know how to bring myself back
I don't want to hurt him
And that's the only reason I haven't joined the damned
Even though my names already signed up
It's just a matter of time until he leaves me too
Forever isn't real