Memories On The Bathroom Floor Poem by Dakota Ellerton

I drag such a truth across my skin,
to hear the familiar sound of my flesh ripping.
This is what makes me real,
makes my life real.
With so much honesty on my arm,
it's begining to go numb.
I can faintly feel the trickling sensation,
of blood on my elbow.
The tears down my face,
are falling just as quickly.
This is never planned,
never what I wanted,
yet it came so naturally into my life,
six years ago.
I couldn't really remember my life,
before such a method had relieved me.
If I could only rely on one thing,
it'd be the tiny blade I hold in my hand.
It's kept my secrets all these years,
though, like lassie, it's been replaced many times.
None as good as the original,
but they still get the job done.
If such comfort could be found,
in something so simple,
why bother aiming for the bigger things?
I could fine peace of mind,
on this bathroom floor.
As I've spent so many nights here,
each time as bad as the last.
But in this room,
it's just me.
No one to bother me,
no one to see what I've done.
This is where I hide.