Matt Olson

The Book, The Box, and You

Copyright, Matt Olson

Tears had filled my eyes
When you walked back to the car
I know what you had in your hands
I was scared, lost and confused.
I open the book, page one told me to stop.
The words hit me hard.
Love.
Betrayal
Rejection and Depressed.
I know them all.
Maybe not as much as you, I don’t know.
Turn the page
Read the first poem
Cry on the inside
Look over at the picture
Cry on the outside
Look over at you
As thoughts fill my mind
I wonder why
I know why
I want you to stop
But don’t know how
I cant just say stop.
Knowing when I get home
I’m sitting down carving myself

They get worse as I turn the pages
The numbers scare me
Tallies of your cuts fill the pages
More tears fill my eyes
I know I can help you
I know how I can make you feel
But I’m going to wait
And let time take its course

Every now and then I’ll sit down
And open my drawer
What kind of mood am I in tonight?
Razor?
Needle?
Knife?
All three?
Everything will be fine soon.
The thoughts of the day will soon pass
The memories will soon be replaced
Pain and Blood will overwhelm me

The first cut hurts.
I sigh, smile, and cry
Putting my hand over the cut
Tearing it apart
Blood pouring onto my pants
It’s not enough
Lay it back down and press
Cut the skin, muscle, and fat.
This is my therapy
And sessions are free.
All that’s lost is a little blood.
But, what’s a little blood compared to your saninty?

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