i am a mess of
open wounds and
needles that have
never sewn
shut,

and
sometimes i still find
string and knots in (the) places
where
i tried to tug shut-
but ended up ripping
skin,
instead

where:
there's still
salt
from when i tried to cleanse
myself from you,
but
hurt too much to continue,
and left myself
bleeding,

so i'm still here
healing,
letting my veins cry and
my scabs heal over,
with
my a hole where my
heart should be,
and no band-aids to fix
it.