I am a slave to the blade,
A slave to my pain, punishment
and purgatory,
I slip a needle in my skin to try
and silence the demon that
causes my flesh to burn.
But I cant...
He screams at me still,
to slash open my legs, arms,
chest...I can't get him to stop
I plead in my voiceless way,
Plead for some help,
but they none of them see me,
None of them see me for what I am...
I don't need you to tell me that I am
"strong", "brave" "made so much progress"
or "i can't deal with your depression"
....I need you to tell me that one day, when
I fall off the wagon (as every addict does)
you will still love me and you won't change or
abandon me....
Because "I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking, maybe six feet ain't so far down" ...
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