It was just a phase - for 5 years
I was doing better, feeling great.
I tidied my table and cleaned my room.
Threw away the broken pink pair of scissors
with hesitation, but it\'s been more than a year
and I pushed through to not look back.
It was never just a phase.
Subconsciously, I knew.
Every time the urges resurface, I fight hard to keep it down.
I kept on walking straight, not realising the Earth was a globe.
This was a longer cycle of my life.
Oh, the irony.
Another pair of scissors - blue - a gift from my instructor.
Not the wrists, because my parents would know.
So, the biceps.
I want to hurt. I want to be in pain. I deserve to bleed. I want to scar.
Old me would be so disappointed in present me for not being able to do so.
I regret throwing away the sharper pair of scissors.