Pieces of me...

Sitting alone in the corner of my room
Fighting off the urges to put nice cleanly drawn lines upon my arm.
Trying not to dwell on the past.
Or think about how things are changing so damn fast. 
The inability to cope with what’s happened to me.
I soon fall into dissociation and I’m left here to bleed. 
The pain I can not feel as I sit here alone
I hear nothing but the radio because no one is home.
The lies of the day the truths of the night
It all comes out in one giant sigh
I’m now lying here on my bathroom floor
Thinking what would happen if some one was to walk through my door.
The whys would be asked
As I would turn to face them
Asking myself is this really happen or am I mistaken. 
They will never know of this act, this ritual I partake in
Because this thing I do to myself is forsaken. 
Self-mutilation, self-injury is what they call it
This is but my escape, my ecstasy
My way to let the world that something is bothering me.
From the lies I’ve told to reassure you happiness together
This is the price I have to pay, this is me…your daughter…heather