Editors Note: The following poem is written by a care leaver about self harm. The butterflies are the blades. This is not a glorification of self harm but one person’s representation of her personal experience.
Broken Butterflies
fly away into the dark
flutter your wings to hide all your scars
fly through the thorns
to feel the pain
feel the blood trickle down
like drops of rain
fear cripples you
you fall from the sky
and wake alone
with a silent cry
you stare at butterflies on your skin
the urgent torture now begins
you skin screams “it;s what you need!”
your butterflies softly begin to plead
” you’re better than this ” they whisper to you
deep in your heart you hope it’s true
you smile down at them
and turn out your light
they saved you again
for one more night