Why I can’t go back…(Poem #79)

I would pick up the blade,

but I can’t,

I can’t bring myself to it again,

It isn’t the blood,

or the pain,

the scares,

or the dirty looks,

or the stares,

or the stigma…

It’s the effect it has on me inside,

I can’t bring myself to hate myself again,

to look at my body in disgust and distaste,

because slowly

but surely,

I am seeing myself as beautiful!

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