A nagging, stinging hangnail,
A self inflicted pain,
Although, unintentional,
I can't help but complain,
Regretful of my actions,
Blood-rimmed fingers swell,
Though I feel a certain traction,
Toward this pain as well,
Taste buds clothed in nicotine,
I watch the candle burn,
And as the flame,
Extinguished,
Smokes,
I fade away in turn

I'm drenched in the stench of yesterday
And flies circle my head
I'm stale
I'm mouldy
I hold no value
Hair coated in grease
Dirt under my nails
No reason to expell any effort
Laying in self pity and dispair
My scabbed over wrists bring back memories
To last night
Which I still reek of

When you told me which tea was your favourite, I drank it every day and imagined how your lips would taste. When you told me your favourite song, I played it on repeat, wondering exactly what it meant to you. When you told me your favourite colour, I tried to find pieces of you in the sun and the flowers. When you told me you loved me, I tried to find what you could possibly find in me that is in the least bit beautiful.

how can you expect me to believe you
when you tell me im beautiful
when your view of beauty is so clearly skewed
and you dont see the beauty in yourself
dont tell me im beautiful
when your eyes hold a story i could read through and through
but you think that they arent pretty enough
god, please dont ******* tell me im beautiful
when your lips are my ******
and dont tell me im beautiful
when you cant tell it to yourself

Clairvoyance to the point of insanity,
Insistance upon peace of mind,
Look past your charade of vanity,
Its okay to say you're not fine,
You've heard of this thing we call heartache,
Its something you know better than most,
You say it was only a mistake,
But you're crying the tears of a ghost,

I feel the splintering shatter,
my heart breaking as the words leave your mouth,
cutting,
bruising,
burning me,
far worse than I could ever inflict on myself,
eating away at me,
from the inside out,
so I try to release it from me,
by freeing the pain through a **** in my wrist,
knowing that it will never truly leave me,
and awaiting the very next night,
another cut,
another bruise,
another burn,
trying to remove the everlasting pain

In this empty room
Blade in hand
Cold, and numb and senseless
It feels like these walls are my worst enemy
But they've been here since the very beginning
And will be here until the very end