My thoughts become knots my fingers bleed to untangle.
I throw them on the ground in front of people hoping they’ll find enough value in me to try to help remedy. Hoping they won’t mind the blood already smeared on them and would ***** themselves for me.
Willing to take off their shoes and walk over the hot coals of my insecurities and become baptized by my knowing they would suffer for my company.
At what point do I decide to stop burning? My insides are cooked to a well done keeping aflame this self hatred.