The Ache That Won’t Leave

I feel worthless.
Useless.
Like the world would keep turning
even if I disappeared.

The only thought that calms the chaos
is the memory of pain —
that sting across my skin,
the one that used to drown
the screams inside my mind.

For a few brief moments,
the world would blur,
and I could breathe again.
The ache inside
would quiet
under the bite of control.

But I threw the razors away.
Every last one.
Because I’m trying —
God, I’m trying —
to beat this addiction
that’s haunted me
since I was nine years old.

Now the silence feels heavier.
The ache has nowhere to go.
My hands shake with memory,
but I stay still,
trapped between wanting release
and wanting recovery.