my volatile cells
will quicken and slow my heartbeat
and there's rhyme or rhythm
no real reason except that i'm an easy target

i feel dizzy
and hyper aware of my skin at the same time
of how close it is to my body
of how much it isn't mine
i would love to escape me,
whatever that is
and stop seeing double for a second
stop

i want to hurt myself
and let any part of me leave this prison cell of a body
because my blood rushing must mean
it wants to get out
i want to get out

i want to hurt myself
and feel something sharp enough that it grounds me
because that is a pain i can explain
rather than one that pulls me into the dark with no warning sign

i want to hurt myself
because i'm angry at my body
and every inch feels completely disgusting
lived in and useless
i feel used

and this body
it's a couple sizes too small to contain anything
and yet it has to;
there are years worth of ugliness and unwanted touches forced into it
and it all keeps trying to come back up

i could cry
or i could *****, i feel like i need to *****

or i could hurt myself
because i need my body to know how much
i hate it
and words of hatred etched into my skin,
hidden away,
feel personal enough that this family feud is contained
so i don't have to spill my blood on anyone else

i know i am stuck in a vicious cycle
and that a lot of times i hate my body
because of the very scars i've put there
but sometimes my cells really are volatile
and there's no rhyme or rhythm to anything i do;
all i can think about is getting out