Addiction is a terrible thing.
You stop and temptation unveils.
You relapse and drown your conscience
With guilt.
I try to stop
But every time I see my scars,
It’s a reliving of every time
I have ever felt;
Abandoned
Depressed
Used
Hateful
Angry
Terribly broken beyond repair. (etc.)
These scars will never leave.
A fact that seems to escape my mind
When I pick up a razor,
Or feel an itch on my arm.

Some will never know how it feels,
To hate yourself inside and out.
To loathe your reflection so much
You want to destroy every reflective surface
That ever held your sight.
Some will never know how it feels,
To have acid tears, burning fresh wounds.
To have pain feel so liberating,
Some will never know what it’s like
to believe your free-
Only to realize your prison bars
Have thickened.

As a caged soul I sing.
I don’t attempt to free myself
For I would have no where
To fly.

My cage sometimes protects me
From an awful place.
Passing before my dejected eyes.
A hollow shell.

Free me,
If you dare.
Free me, if you care enough
To lend an ear.
Like the Lorax,
With his precious Truffula Trees.
Plant the last seed.
If you would care to see a brighter me.