• earthworm 10w


    I remember being fourteen,
    choking on my tears.
    Was there a reason?
    Is there ever really a reason?
    Or was I faking it,
    for attention,
    like he told me I was.
    Was I in the wrong,
    although I could do no harm?
    Was it my fault,
    when I cut open
    that virgin skin
    a temptation long forgotten.
    I remember being fourteen,
    blood on my leggings
    from the night before.
    I showed them off,
    the fresh wounds,
    hoping for sympathy,
    but all I got was threats
    of wrecked rooms
    and torn skin.
    I remember being fourteen,
    and walking into the hospital,
    being walked away from mom,
    walked away from dad,
    for four days.
    They told me ten,
    but I was good,
    not a bad patient,
    like the rest,
    or maybe the insurance
    wouldn't pay it off.
    I remember being fourteen,
    just diagnosed with PTSD
    and Major Depressive Disorder,
    as my mother brushed it off
    as 'teenager things',
    although she knows.
    She has always known.