A Worried Mother

I use to cut,
But I don't even know why.
I just turned to the scissors,
Whenever I needed to cry.

It only took five cuts, and five days,
Before my mom found out.
I was very surprised,
When I didn't even hear her shout.

She just sat me down,
And talked to me with her calm voice.
She asked me why,
And I thought I didn't have a choice.

I barely said a word.
I could only cry.
She asked me in her worried voice,
"Did you want to die?"

She wanted to see my cuts,
So I lifted up my sleeve.
I knew it in her eyes,
That it was hard for her to believe.

I knew she was worried about me,
And I hated her that way.
So I promised myself I would never do it again,
And fortunately, I haven't to this day.

Still some days,
Are so hard to bear,
But now when I get real depressed,
I think of my mom,
The one person I know who cares.