I write this with a heavy heart,
For I fear for my life…
My hands are not innocent.
.
.
.
“I’m pouring my soul out,
Have a sip
And feel what I feel.”
.
.
.
It is self-hatred that justifies the horrors I inflict on myself.
It is these very scars that lay perfect
On my flesh…
Like a map…
Pictures the perfect death.