This is the first time I picked up the pen in so long, the last time I
wrote my words I got in trouble and kicked out of school, but my
question is did I do something by writing something that expressed how I
felt? If writing is the way I express myself, how come you think its
wrong? I used to see life like I was living in hell, I used the blade to
get out of life, I needed help and you didn't even see it!! but I
realize I have to turn over a new leaf and try to let go of this
addiction, I went a month without it and then broke down I needed it
again, until I met him........
He helped me, he showed me everything I could never see before. He saved
me, he told me to throw the blades out and start over, but life is to
short to think your going to live forever or at least pretend, I'm not
going to lie sometimes I pick up the blade to cut but then I think about
him, I can't hurt him by hurting myself, it may feel good to me but he
would be hurting, so I would drop the blade and walk away, I always
wanted to run away and find a better home to run to I would want to run
from the pain, the tears, and life, everytime I would close my eyes I
pictured myself living on the streets selling my ass justed to eat, but
then I would open my eyes and realize no I can't live like that, I can't
live on the street using dirty needles like every other junkie out there
that's not me, I'm proud of myself though for never giving up and for
you showing me the light, I saved myself from almost dying, and you know
what they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, and hey I didn't
kill myself so that makes me stronger, and this isn't the end its the
beginning........
