I slice my flesh to release the blackness

that flows through my veins

and seeps into my cells;

the very cells that make up my entire body,

my entire being.

My momma tells me that cutting isn’t a solution

that all it does is hurt me and the people around me-

the people who love me.

But if the people around me really loved me

they’d understand.

They’s leave it alone.

They’d care.

I release the blackness

So new things can grow.

I want to be as beautiful as a garden of roses.

I want to be a field of flowers for you.

But how pretty is a garden

when everything is dead?