Chattering, bouncy, bright-eyed
That is how I was as a child
with anyone I met,
even perfect strangers.

13 was the year I killed myself.
Ripped my heart out
and rearrange my emotions
Along with my thoughts.

It happened again at 16
Then also at 17, 18, 19 and 20.

I ripped my bones out and tore my DNA
apart.
I scrubbed myself clean with bleach
And rewired me.

Now I'm reserved, still, and dead-eyed.
Recoil and avoid even the briefest of touches
With strangers.

Every time I killed myself,
I was reborn and more wary of things.
Today I am alive
because I killed myself
So many times.