Charlie

Sometimes I get so damn upset, so irritated. I just have to bite my tongue, though.

          Because that’s what everyone expects.

                    Because if I don’t, I’m not Charlie anymore.

                             Because when I speak my mind, I’m Scarlet.

I have to shy away from telling people the thoughts racing through my head.

          I just think them.

                                                That’s probably one of the major differences between her and I.

Personally, I don’t like me that way. When it comes to keeping my mouth shut, I’d

much

rather be Scarlet.

So how do I deal with all the shit I have to keep incarcerated

          within myself?                                                                                     I cut.

That’s right.

          Charlie has a secret.

                   One that will follow me to my grave, if I have anything to do with it.

                             It might mean I can’t ever have an intimate relationship.                                                     I don’t care.

                                                People won’t love me if they find out.

But that’s not enough

to make me quit.

Nothing is.

Nothing ever will be.

The blade will be my

best friend.                                                                                                 For life.

Oh, I’ve tried to quit,

          tried to leave it behind,

tried to find and strengthen other, “better”

          more socially acceptable coping skills.

                   But nothing numbs me like the blade.

Call it an addiction. I can’t quit,

nor do I have any desire to.

Yes, Charlie has a deep, dark secret.

One that people probably wouldn’t be too

understanding of.

But all I have to do is pull out

          my shiny, little friend,

                   find a piece of fleshy skin,

                             bite my lip,

                                      and push.