HRSA: High Risk Self Harm

Admitted at twenty years old, these white walls confine me

Just to salvage my bitter soul, I can hear my demons laughing

A needle pierced into my arm, “wake up for your meds again”

I lied about my past self harm, the nurse is here to wash my sins

Purple scars cake my arms, but there’s a voice that lives deep in my head

My tortured ghosts begin to haunt, begging my body to drop down dead

 Cracking locked windows just to breath, disturbed by lost memories

Slicing my thighs just to bleed, singing tragic melodies

Shame and guilt imprisoned my soul, fear and addiction became my friend

I’m locked inside these four white walls, the cameras are watching so I have to pretend.

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