Picking up a razor, I gaze at my arm.
Thus begins the cycle of my self-harm.
Slicing my wrists, carving my thighs,
Now my skin matches how I feel inside.


Cutting deeper than ever before,
I am frightened yet relieved as blood begins to pour.
I sit in this corner, drenched red
Wondering if somehow I’d be better off dead.

Tears stream down my pale face,
Feeling I simply don’t belong in any place.
I can’t be your perfect missing puzzle piece,
When I would give up this life just to have peace.

Completely full of pain and darkness,
I’m reunited with the one friend I miss.
The butterfly, who flutters in with its wings of hope,
Settles on my wrist to help me cope.


No more cuts and no more scars,
Just a little butterfly who came from very far.
Love adorns its wings, reminding I’m never alone.
Able to smile now, I see how much I’ve grown.

New-found tears of joy shed from hurting eyes,
I’m happy I now have this savior, the butterfly.
I will protect it now and never let it die,
So that I may return the favor for saving my life.