One day I found myself
calling my reflection
names I wouldn't even
call my worst enemy

They say i write too dark of stories;
to write more happy things.
But once you've seen the things i have
you will understand why.
why the
tears drench my face,
why the
cuts stain my arms
why there is
hurt in my eyes.
once i tell you all the reasons
then you too will hear
the demons screaming lies.

My wrists still hurt from
the day you grabbed my arm
and my cuts opened up
underneath my sleeve.
I pulled away
but I didn't mention the pain
because how do you tell someone
who has never shed a drop of blood in
their life,
that every part of you is bleeding.

AS SOON AS I CUT MY SKIN I DREW A PICTURE OF YOU WITH MY BLOOD AS YOU WERE THE ONLY THING THAT WAS COURSING THROUGH MY VEINS. EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, YOUR HANDS, YOUR LAUGH, THE TWINKLE IN YOUR EYES KEPT ME ALIVE AND WHEN THAT WASN'T AROUND ANYMORE I WAS PRACTICALLY DEAD. I NEEDED YOU OUT OF MY BODY AND THIS WAS THE ONLY WAY, AND NOW THAT YOU ARE NO LONGER INSIDE I CAN FINALY WASH YOU AWAY, BUT EVEN NOW MY HAND LINGERS AS THIS ****** SMILE IS THE ONLY THING THAT IS HELPING ME BREATHE.

I grab it.
I look at my arm.
Push it in.
And think of the beautiful harm.
As the blood drips,
One drop
Then two.
I stare at myself.
And think,
What did you just do?