I absolutely HATE
Watching someone I love
Hurt herself
I cannot stand
Looking at the scars
That cover her skin
Those scars
They tell more stories
Than her blood-stained lips
Ever could
I shiver
Every time she holds the bottle
And takes another heavy swig
I cannot look
When she sits there in the dark
Smoke escaping her body
And a cigarette
Providing the only light in the room
I bite my lip
When I pick up
One of her bloody knives
And tell the younger kiddos
That it's jam
Or something
Anything but blood
When I take her knives
And wash them
I feel better
When I look at the clean blades
When I see her skin covered
When her eyes light up
From a forced smile
I can breathe
Because it's easier to watch her pretend
Than hold her when she falls apart.
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