"I want to cut my wrists."
That's how I know
I'm not okay.

I scream those words in my head
And then ignore them.
Daily.

When I think about it,
I can feel a sort of
Euphoria
On my left wrist.

I'm not proud of this in the least
In fact,
I hate it.

I hate how those scars
Keep showing up
And I hate how I want
More.

I hate it
I hate it
I hate it.

You gave me a lot of memories to forget.

There's an itch on my wrist
That I refuse to scratch.

I will stare at my wrist and I will say
"You will not win this."

She taught me that I miss having a mother.
She taught me I could cry.
She taught me new ways of kissing.
She taught me who I really love.
She taught me how to sever mutilated limbs.
She taught me that everybody can be selfish.
She taught me that laughing only eases the pain for a day.
She taught me that scars never go away,
*They just get old.

It's me, that moon and my heartbeat.
We're alone down here with nothing but
Fear and Want.

Fear that our mark will not last
Fear that what we learn next will end it
Fear that one of us three will change.

Want of a life that's better
Want of a woman with lightning eyes
Want of a life without fear.

I got some tasty tea today
All the way up North,
My Humma Connie brought me it,
And that has no worth.

I'm in a higher league, apparently,
She wouldn't even talk to me.
I scared her.

I just wanted to kiss.