Content Warning: This work explores themes of self-harm, memory, and intrusive urges. Please prioritize your well-being while reading. If you’re struggling or feeling unsafe, please reach out to your local crisis helpline or someone you trust. Help is available, and seeking it can make all the difference.

She winks in the silence, 
Just out of reach. 
Her fingers curl inward, 
Calling out to me. 
The siren in my storm 
Whispers lies of peace. 
But when the taste of truth 
doesn’t offer me release, 
“Should I cross over?” 
My heart repeats. 

I’m not at sea, 
Years yet from the terrors 
and tossing in the sheets. 
But I hear her calling, 
So warm and inviting. 
I lean in just a little, 
Feel her trace my skin, 
Waiting in the shadows 
For me to just give in. 

She hovers by my side, 
Glinting in the sunlight. 
Fingers outstretched, 
Poised to strike. 
Tucking a curl behind my ear, 
She tells me, 
“I held you so tight 
Till you saw your blood run 
On your wrist, your feet, your thighs.” 

I wonder if she was right, 
If she’s always been. 
And I may not need her now, 
But she didn’t ever leave. 
Lurking in my nightmares, 
Reaching through my dreams. 
And every time I lose a tear, 
She breathes— 

“Your blood’s always so sweet.”