To the (...) that (...)

To the woman who named my demon 

Do you know what you did to me? To this day?

To the man that told me this isn't path

Did you know I've lost my faith? Did you know I'm afraid to believe?

To the people that wanted to help fix me 

I refuse to be in the same room as you 

I refuse to acknowledge you

I refuse to give my time to you

I refuse to accept the things you give to me

I don't want to hear you 

I don't want to hear of you

I don't want to see you

I don't want you in my life 

Do you know that you've almost got me convinced

I think I'm too broken to be fixed 

Too broken to be able to accept help 

There are days that you won 

On these days I give in to the negativity

Struggling to keep wanting to stay alive 

Wanting to give in to the voice that says to hurt myself

To cut, to draw blood, even if it's just a little but 

Cut where people don't see

Then there's the part which feels the shame of trying to cover up the scars but aches to feel the stinging pain when I shower or when the fabric moves over the open wounds

At the same time I can already see that "eyes" 

Eyes that hold sadness and powerlessness

Arms too afraid to hug me 

Mouths too afraid to ask me 

What happened? Can I do something for you? Take care of the wounds...

I know you want to ask me everything but don't know how to begin or how to ask

I'm still refusing to give in 

But I can feel myself crumbling

I want to draw blood 

But I don't want you to see 

I want to feel the pain

But I don't want you to see 

I want to feel

But I'm afraid to let you see what I see