Clover Poetry Series: From Self-Harm to Self-Love
I wrote this poem celebrating two years of self love. It's been two years since I stopped harming myself and being addicted to sleep pills. This poem evaluates the journey I've taken and describes how I felt when I was in my darkest place. It's a reminder that it gets better.
I'm fifteen years old
It's my first day as a high school kid
Things seem different
I should be different, too
I'm standing on my toes
Walking with my head high
"Don't smile," I thought
"It will think you're easy,"
But it did anyways
I'm sixteen now
It's getting worse
I hate my life
I'm drowning in darkness
Holding my breath
Yet I'm gasping the air around me
And it's burning my insides
"Don't let them know," I thought
"It will get you,"
But it did anyway
Seventeen was the worst
The darkness was now growing
But turning dark grey
Finally, it's leaving
"It went away," I thought, finally
But it didn't.
I'm eighteen, Mom
I'm an adult now
I'm responsible, finally
"Are you serious," it said back
"I'm in control now,"
Its first decision was to run the blade over the flesh
Harder to see the red flowing
But gentle enough to savor the pain
"Please make it stop," I cried with no sound,
But it just stared back and laughed
The laugh was addictive
And so was the pain
Off to college, and out of this
The darkness got bored and left
But its friend, the bubble came
"Don’t worry about anything," it said,
'I'll do the worrying instead,"
It did, but every worry sucked the air of the bubble
And did trap me inside
"Hold your breath, close your eyes," I thought
"It will go away,"
But it didn't
The bubble sucked the air from my lungs to survive
And sucked the life out of me, too
I thought I was dead
But out of nowhere, my wings grew
Tearing the bubble apart
I watched as the light swallowed me,
I gasped for air
As my body took off
Soaring, flying, and lifting up
No more darkness, no more bubble
Just air and blinding light
"I'm free now," I thought
And I was indeed.
By Samah Rifla, 21