look at me ******
i am the festering wound
of an abused child
forced to grow up too soon
thrown into adulthood
with nothing but the scars on my arms
and the mean words that you
drilled into my brain
bouncing around the walls of my skull
maybe a drill-bit to the temple
would make them cut it
the **** out
but it would probably be easier
to muster up the guts
to ask my mother
why she resents me so

and my ribs are nothing
but another cage
keeping my heart from leaping out
of my chest
of exploding into a better life
a life without you in it
because *******
twelve years old is way too young
to start cutting myself
i was too naive to even know
or understand that death was
the end of all ends
but now i understand it
all too well
spend my nights
restless in my sweat and blood stained sheets
blankets kicked to the floor
the want to die
the need to feel
those clammy hands wrapped around your throat
long fingers digging into scarred flesh
pulling you into the dirt
with the promise that you will never
have to open your eyes into this nightmare
again

and can you really blame
me for wanting it to
end this way
i always said that i was going to
go out with a bang
but ******
i clipped my wings for you
pushed the fishhooks of your
hugs and goodnight kisses
deep into my feet
through my wiggling toes
rooted myself to the ground
endured it so that you would
leave my little sister alone

what i had was no
childhood it was a ****-poor
excuse for a place to call home
and ****** it still is
but when you look at me
all you see are my flaws
but have you ever stopped to
look in a mirror
because i can assure you
it is not my face that you will find
staring out at you

and i think that
choking down the brightly colored tacks
handful by handful
would be less painful
than you telling me what a failure i am
but i don’t know how to make you understand
when you have known nothing
but a mother and father’s love
it is hard to be shunned by your own family
and i just want it to end
but can you really blame me

look at me goddamit
i am nothing but a walking sore
an open and weeping wound
instead of tears
pus and blood drip down my cheeks
still i paint you the same word
over and over
sorry sorry sorry sorry
i just want you to love me
why do you hurt me so

look at me ******
i am a poster-child
for a missing childhood
because cruel words
and the coldness of soap
bars and liquid
the growing amount of cuts
now faded scars
but still there forever
are all that i know
all that my mother gave me
my self-hatred and destruction are
the blanket i wrap myself in at night
cry into my pillow
so you won’t hear my sobs
and find another reason
to bring out your claws