My Friend

You were my only friend on those cold dark days.

The days that felt like years, the days that aged my mind and spirit.

My spirit was so lost in a deep dark sea of depression.

The word depression is thrown around too lightly these days.

These days are not like those days of the past.

The past can never be forgotten nor do I want to forget.

Forgetting is too hard when I can look down everyday and see the scars.

The scars run deeper then the flesh wounds on this body of mine.

This body of mine has been a canvas for pain for many years.

Many years have passed but it still feels like yesterday when the hurt began.

The hurt began when I was very young, so young that over time I became numb.

Numb to the hurtful words and the longing to be loved.

To be loved is all I ever really wanted, to receive as much as I gave.

I gave so much of myself to everyone that I forgot who I was.

Who I was is not who I am today, but that little girl still remains.

Remains deep down inside my soul to make sure I never forget.

I cannot forget my only friend with the cold steel and sharp edges.

The sharp edges that would cut deep into my flesh.

My flesh stained with blood, the warm blood that would run down my body.

My body could feel the pain which my heart could no longer feel.

The feel of the razorblade, my only true friend.