There are no quiet alternatives to self-harm.
But--
everything that is loud is inherently angry
to me.

self-harm is not inherently angry
i am not
angry.

There are no alternatives to self-harm.
I am sad.
So I listen to Blue Moon
by That *******
named Elvis Presley.

They warned you that your blood would boil and your fingers would burn,
but still you reached for their light like a drowning man at the bottom of a well,
and tried to swallow them whole.
I remember that sparkling night,
when we watched a comet fall like a tear drop pulling open the sky,
and I asked you what you wished for,
even though I already knew the answer

It took me seven years
to realise
the words in my mind
were too deep for
my mouth to dig up
I thought it was easier
to open my skin
and let the truth
pour down my arms

It took me seven years
to realise
nobody should be allowed
to touch parts
of your home
or hold pieces  
of your heart
that you don't yet understand

It took me seven years
to realise
I will wear these scars
forever
I'll carry them
through every smile
every kiss
every concerned gaze
I'll carry them
to my grave

It took me seven years
to realise
the pain carved
into the walls
of my castle
etchings of
attempting to disappear
are not a story of weakness
but a tale of
how I survived