Is This The Day

Is This the Day
By Savanna Ewing

Sometimes air hurts to breath,
My skin hurts to see.
I am aware you hate to look at my scars,
But baby you’re the reason they’re there.

One by one I chop away the pain.
Two by two I slice away the shame.
Three by three I say will I ever be free?

Diagonal, horizontal they are everywhere.
Thin and thick I know it’s make you sick.
Deep and shallow I know I how they affect you so.
But if you slow down, you’ll see.
You’re the reason I bleed.

Sometimes the cuts are all I feel,
The pain is too great,
And so I celebrate.
My ceremonial dance of blades.
Its very low key,
No one but me can see.
The aftermath is all that’s left.

Time after time,
I wonder if this is it.
Is this the time that I go to deep?
Is this the time I go to sleep.
Can this be the day?
I fade away….

Trapped in a prison,
Of my own design.
These scars are mine.
They hold the memory,
That binds.
They offer no peace of mind.
Only broken embrace, and traces
Of what could have been.

Every time I give in,
Tear at my skin,
Push the blade in.
Hold all my feelings down,
So I wear the crown of blame.
But you and I are one in the same.
I am the everyday
I am the ordinary.