Each lacerating scar is a new engravement
which becomes more than we’ll ever be.
A definition of the synergy between fate and cruelty.

Shallow graves tease us
beckoning us to crawl inside
to be comforted by the silence
imagining our bones as dust
allowing our minds to fade out of focus
the static drowning out every
twist of the knife-
by our own hand that told us we were worthless.

But there’s beauty in misery
not in our reflection
but in the eyes who hold the keys to all the doors
you’re too scared to open
until someone pushes you through
bringing you to life, in ways you always dreamt to live
until you forget all of the reasons you want to die.