Rehab! The knife!

I gather all of my thoughts, as their all so deep.... I try to drift away, I try to fall asleep. I'm so diprived on life, I'd do anything just to feel the knife. This rehab hasn't been working to great, instead of love.... I'm learning to hate. I feel the need to burst out into tears, I've caculated my past, and tried to retrace my tears. I'm slowing comming clean, with a chance to escape, to be heard, and to be seen. I'm falling faster than I had in mind.... slowing these scars will mend over time. The dreams get worse with each night, the teachers say it's that my theraphy is working, that I can win this fight. I dream of the blade, the shiny silver touch, the feeling that I need, that I crave all too much. It's been 2 years, and I'm better then ever, I cant say I wouldn't touch the knife again, because there is no such thing as forever. Sometimes I look at my scars, and it takes me back to that day.... but I know time has healed my wounds, and I know that I'm okay.