It started by accident,
Something that could have been stopped,
Drink after drink,
Confusing our minds,
Leading us thru half of a dirty dance,
I said I was fine, I lied really bad,
I found some razors,
I was still an innocent about some things,
I slipped and cut my hand,
And some pain went away,
I was amazed at this,
And repeated the process,
Till my hand was painted with blood.
I was out on a date,
In a beautiful place,
Looking at art,
And old things alike,
Something I liked that she forced her self to,
Even though she hated it,
I paid for something with that hand,
She saw the scars,
And her heart stopped,
I smiled and received my changed.
My lover took my change,
She took my wrist,
And pulled me away to some place quite,
And held my wrist in her deadly grip,
She looked at my wrist and glared at me,
I started to cry,
I though I was gonna die,
She let her grip loose knowing she was too harsh,
And kissed the cuts and told me never again.
I stayed clean for two years,
Thru the break up too,
But then after three,
It started again,
For reasons I don’t know,
She smacked me and took my wrist,
I though she was gonna hurt me,
But I felt a cooling sensation,
As she kissed it,
“so your working up your arm”
I just looked at it then her,
“stay still” she told me and pulled out make up,
“but-” I was about to say,
“no worries you should break out”
I sighed in relief, “but if you do you deserve it”
I gulped as it was covered.
I started crying once again,
And I quitted once again too. |
Submission Name: my journey
