I woke up seeing red

Red fall trees dropping leaves

Red lipstick stains on my pillow

Red comforter piled on top of me

The red blood

Leaking from cracks

Scratched onto my skin

The red liquid on my nightstand

The red behind my eyelids

As I try to go back to sleep

Hoping sleep will heal

My broken red heart

*NOTE

Recently I’ve been going through a bit of a hormonal change. Normal changes. Nothing weird. But I’ve been struggling to regulate emotionally. I do a lot of it myself. Try to sleep. Talk to friends. Use my words and spend time on things that I know will make me feel accomplished. I make myself useful where I can. Make myself scarce where necessary.

This poem takes me back to a time when I didn’t know how to self regulate. When escapism and self harm were my coping mechanism. Sometimes the pull is strong to revert back to these tactics.

I am stronger now and I’ve come a long way. But the feelings are still there. There is an animal part of me that still wants me dead. I used to believe I was born with this monster but I now believe it was created by the words of others. Words I believed. Words and actions meant to hurt me and keep me down. Words I think I can erase over time because I’ve had help erasing them the last several years and that monster is weaker and I AM stronger.