The old me... maybe still a little.

I take the razor..
and slice my skin..
I watch the blade cut.
but I don't feel a thing..
So I do it deeper..
again and again..
Pain seeker that I am.
I take this lighter..
make a flame..
I hold it under metal..
Until the metal is
one with the flame..
I close my eyes for a second..
then put the metal on my skin..
Watching it sink in..
I see it blister
smell my flesh burn..
But it still does not
cover this pain..
This pain from within..
Pain seeker that I am..
I see old scars
from blades and burns..
Some lessons are never learned..
I know all this sounds insane..
Trying to end my life
with one slice of a vein..
Ironically..
Death was not always my goal..
Most of the time it was to
simply help me let go..
I need to feel the physical pain..
It helps to hide what is within..
The pain within is the worst by far..
Worse than razors..
worse than fire..
It is an eternal pain..
these memories and emotions
won't let me be..
That is what drives me crazy..
Maybe insane..
After all I am
The seeker of pain..
The me of the past..
See me.. the girl over there..
the one with bandaged arms..
strawberry hair..
The one with no face..
just a number..
She has no family
She doesn't want friends..
She is just another girl
in the system of
warehoused children..
How those years
continue to haunt me
to this day..
Feeling so unwanted
scared
alone
guilty and imprisoned..
For what ..
she is never told why..
She is just a number..
a girl with no face and no name..
That child.. that girl..
that seeker of pain.

ERICA