Slits

By Maria Sufia

I lay there with my wrists adorned

With crimson bracelets that I have worn

The red droplets staining my bed

And no wish to see what life holds ahead.

The world slowly fading, my breath suddenly short

Eyes now closing, blurring my crammed thoughts.

This feeling of pain--something I was acquainted to

My body, my face, in red it was painted too.

Suddenly I screamed, my voice more like a roar

I could hear my Dad yelping and breaking open my door.

Oh that feeling of love when he held me in his arms

Wish i was familiar to such kind of charms.

I could hear them wailing, telling me I'll be okay

But when I was never cared for, then why do you want me to stay?

Darkness was overpowering, I was ready to give in

I always let it lose--it was its turn to win.

I could feel syringes prick, my wrists being dressed

In lifeless rags of white, slightly stained in red.

Seven years later, my wrists still hold

The blotches from the bracelet that i once wore.

I don't like to touch them, I have to admit

They remind me of the time I was addicted to slits.

By Maria Sufia