Drawing.
Doodling.
Writing on her arm.
Drawing…
Doodling?
Scratching up her arm?

Transitions and processes.
Can’t remember how it started.
Oh how did it start?
Markers were fine.
Colored ink sufficed.
Until she fell apart.

A pencil couldn’t cut.
Couldn’t harm her…
Could it if she tried?
A pencil couldn’t hurt…
But if she pressed harder…
No one knew she cried.

Tears fell down her face.
Red marks on her wrists.
Hoodie over top to keep it hidden.
Wipe her eyes.
Wipe the blood…
Just the faintest hint, forbidden.

Pencils and soda tabs.
What a way to…
To find a way to harm?
Drawing and doodling…
How can that lead to…
To scratching up her arm?

A long and painful story.
No one thought she would.
An addiction to create.
Can’t stay mad.
At anyone.
So now there is self-hate.

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About Robin Elizabeth

My name is Robin Elizabeth and I'm 21. I do not create with my own ability, but with the gift God has given me.

3 responses »

  1. cute and beautiful,
    14? wow, keep trying..

    Greetings:

    Week 27 Poetry Potluck is open, welcome/Thanks (4) joining us…share your poetry with us today…

    Friendship Awards, Enjoy!

    Happy Monday,
    Bless you!
    xxx

  2. wow this is amazing. I am not sure if this is just something you made up or is 100% real. Sounds like a person crying for help but also like a very talented writer… You make me wanna quit writing… NICE

  3. Whether it is real or not can be left up to the reader. Regardless of the realness of this exact situation, situations like this and far worse do exist and the people in them need help. It’s not just teenage girls.
    I don’t intend to make anyone want to quit writing, more writing is how one gets better. Don’t give up. ^-^

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