The speaker is talking about self-harm, and the poem reads like a quiet, honest confession. They say they used to cut and have stopped, but the urge hasn't gone away: "I always think about it / But I never do." The "sore" left after the fall suggests the damage, physical or emotional, is still being felt.
The feelings are mixed. There is regret in the wish to go back, take the knife and say "stop." There is also a worrying admission that they "might in the end" return to it. The line "I can't change the pasts / But I can change the future" sounds hopeful, as if the speaker is trying to talk themselves into believing it.
Then the ending turns. "But now I dont have a choice" undercuts that hope and leaves the speaker feeling trapped. The mood is raw, tired and uncertain, a fragile struggle rather than a tidy recovery. The plain wording and slips in spelling make it feel unpolished and personal, like a private thought written down.