Sunday, 20 July 2014

I'm not okay

I'll paint my soul on paper,
and post it here for you to see.
The words shaped like my scars,
might explain what it's like to be me.

The words come hard and slow some times,
I try to write but they resist.
The words come thick and fast sometimes,
like the blood flow from my wrist.

I'll try to tell you how it is,
and not lie to make it pretty.
I'll not post things to try and impress you,
or exaggerate to get your pity.

The stories I write are true,
and this pain in my heart is real.
I trace the blade across my skin,
it's the only way I can feel.

Most people will never read this,
but it is important that you do.
My stories may be hard to read,
but they might be real for someone close to you.

We are excellent at hiding,
those of us that feel this way.
But most of us are just hoping,
that someone will notice we aren't okay.

So try to actually listen,
when someone tells you how they are.
one kind word from you,
might stop me making another scar.

5 comments:

  1. Beautiful and raw poem. Keep up the great work,

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Faiza.
      I'm glad you enjoyed it.

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  2. Very moving. Hopefully not too based in reality. I used to write short stories in these kinds of colours/tones.

    The editor in me says... you might be missing a T in the penultimate stanza before "hiding"?

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    Replies
    1. Unfortunately it is based entirely in reality.
      The parts about self harm are from my past, but the message is 100% real.
      Very few people care about the answer when they ask you how you are these days, and so most people like me no longer bother to give an honest answer. :/

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    2. p.s. thanks for the editing :]

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