The day you turned 16
coming to school with a bandaged arm
trying to hide it under long sleeves but already attracting uncomfortable glances, questions and accusations.

I don’t want to remember…you locking yourself in the bathroom stall, hearing the unraveling of toilet paper, then brush against your broken skin, seeing you open the door, smiling, ready to return to class. How nice of you to put on such a great mask.

I don’t want to remember… self-harm confusing close friends and family, forcing us to ask ourselves what we did wrong. I wanted to forget about you falling asleep in the hall,
Exhausted after staying up to study the entire night.

Because you have to be as good as everyone else or you would have to be punished. Tired of trying so hard to understand your actions,
sick of always hearing this time “you couldn’t control it, but next it would be different”.

Written by -Unknown Author

*I did not write this*


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