i turn to the window
don't let them see you cry.
that's what grandma told you
and her mom before her.

don't let them know you've been hurt.
a cut is only as deep as you allow it to be.

and that's what's wrong
it's not another person
there's no one yelling at me
or calling me mean names

unless you count the voices in my head.
they talk and mumble and yell and scream and cry.
too many at once.
no distinct voice sticks out.

i shut down and you tell me to **** it up.
it'll get better.
a cut is only deep as you allow it to be.

that's where you're right.
but what if i want the cut to **** me?