My Unkind Brain #2: Trigger Warning


United States
33° 59' 44.8368" N, 84° 28' 11.1576" W

Sometimes my brain is not kind to me.

It started when I was twelve years old.

My classmate, a year older, had marks on her ankles.





She said that it was what made things better.

It worked for her.

I tried it for myself.


Safety pins, knives, razorblades


an unsettling catharsis.

A self soother turned addiction


Hide them with long sleeves

and concealer. 

Carve the words into myself

poetry wasn't mine yet.


It went away when I 

decided It didn't help

But came back with the lightest mention

"Slit your wrists, you hypocrite"


"Pretty girls bleed out thier ugliness."

Poetic posts on Tumblr

dragging me back to my demise.

Maybe I'll get better.


Here I am,

going to meet better Better

whoever she is,

wherever she is.


but surely.


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741