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#69 Just a Rock

(Serious serious serious Trigger warning several mentions of self-harm. It’s even difficult for me to go back over it editing after all this time so I felt I should make this clear.)

It’s just a rock I say to my mom

She looks skeptical but she doesn’t ask any more questions

It’s just a rock I said after  I told her what I did with it and she looks at me sadly

It’s just a rock I say as I look at my puffy red forearm

It’s just a rock and it didn’t even cut through any skin

I didn’t even bleed so what’s the big deal

It was just a rock I explained to my therapist just over half a year later

But now that I think about it I know I’m wrong

It wasn’t just a rock

It was what I did with the rock

It was the thoughts that led to me using the rock

It was the buildup of emotions

It was the silent outcry that I thought only I could hear before it happened

It was the feelings that I felt afterward

It’s what I did with the rock

It’s the sickness I feel whenever I think about it

It’s why I never want to feel that low again

It’s just a rock I said

But the fact is it wasn’t ever ‘just a rock’

Published inOtherSorrow

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