Poems play, Story time: The self-harmer

He sat on the toilet, lost and confused, his heart filled with so much pain. , Poems play, Story time The self-harmer


The self-harmer:

He sat on the toilet, lost and confused, his heart filled with so much pain.

In his right hand, he held a razor blade, his left wrist scarred with the lines he had made before, the scars of his past. Exits, with the sole purpose of bleeding out his pain, the thing that pledged his heart. He thought this was the only way, his emotion bottled up never to be realised, when it gets too much to bear, he lets it escape through his blood. No one was ever to know, he would always wear long sleeved t-shirts to hide them away, deep down he was ashamed. No one would understand his way of dealing with pain, this he felt was his only way.

But his mum was to find out, he forgot to lock the bathroom door, for just as he raised that razor blade to his forearm, she walked right in. Her eyes wild, she snatches the razor blade from his very hand. Tears flowing down her cheeks, the only word she could muster was “why?” her son now in pieces himself, the secret finally out, he can’t hide away anymore, the mask he had on around her fell off. He begins to air, all the things that had pushed him to this point. 

That he had been bullied for all these years, saying he was a waste of air and that he would be better off dead, the countless beatings he has had to face, that he felt his father walking out was his fault, forcing him to become the man, growing up before he was even ready to, his childhood missed, that he feared he would spent his life alone, never to be understood and loved for who he was, that this was his way to get out the pain that sagged his heart.

His mother, cradling him in her arms, listened with the understanding he thought he would never get. When he was finished, it was her turn to speak: “You should never listen to those bullies because you know what, what I think of you matters more than what they think, you are handsome and can do great things if you put your mind to it, as for the beatings they are the weak one’s having to force someone down with not only word but violence, you are a bigger man than they will ever be, so prove them wrong.” She places a kiss to his forehead and carries on. “As for a woman she will come when it’s time and anyone would be likely to have you, I know you will take great care of her. As for your father, he wasn’t a man walking out on his responsibilities. I used to blame myself to you know, feeling that I wasn’t a good enough wife for him but guess what? It’s his loss, he gets to miss out on his son becoming something great. He will come back knocking, when he realises his mistake and it’s your choice if you let him back in.” 

She held her son, just that bit tighter before continuing. “You are my little boy, I will always be there for you, whenever you need me. Please just talk to me and promise me one more thing?” Her head tilted, eyes aligning with her son’s, he nodded slightly. “No more of this.” Her eyes shot down to his wrist, she leaned down placing a kiss over them “I’m going to get some counselling for us both, I think we need it. Many people have to do it at some time. Bottling up feelings is never a good thing.”

He pulled back from his mum, making her the promise. This was finally the end, he felt better just talking everything through and with the counselling he learned better ways to cope with things that had happened. He never did self-harm again, his mother was with him through the rest, an unbeatable team, that no one could bring down. He finally had the support, he thought he never needed, he grows into the man, his mother had such high hopes for.

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