Sorry

In the solitude of home, away from prying eyes, I shed my facade, where truth never lies. With a heavy heart, I cast my burdens aside, Locked in my sanctuary, where emotions collide. As sickness overtook me, I bent over the basin, Muffling cries and screams, in silent persuasion. Alone in my anguish, on the cold bathroom floor, I faced my reflection, weary and sore. "you look like shit," the mirror echoed my despair, Eyes tired and hollow, burdened beyond repair. A fleeting impulse, a dangerous temptation, As scissors in hand, I battled against frustration. Counting each incision, a painful release, Bloodied sink, a testament to inner peace. Yet amidst the chaos, a voice cried out, "Have I gone too far?" in silent doubt. Cleansed and composed, I emerged with a smile, Facing the world, my pain in exile. But beneath the facade, a lingering scar, A silent plea for solace, hidden afar.