I don't talk about my self harm much
Because I can't do it without revealing
The depth of my desire
It's like, how someone would talk about their favorite food, or ***
The scars on my body
Are a momento to the capacity
To turn pain into pleasure
An escape into which
I can dive
Flesh first.
They speak of sins of the flesh.
I would compare my urge
To gluttony, or lust.
The thing about addiction tho
Is that it's a lot like walking a tightrope
Everything in balance
But theres no net.
I'm a self taught gymnast
Twisting myself to prove,
How far I can push myself
A mastery over my own body
And the, click, click, click
That only knows one way to be silenced
I don't know how else to love my body
But to define it by what I can take from it
And I have a habit
Of being, oh so, very greedy
When I let someone love me
I find myself hoping
That they have enough hunger to consume me
So that maybe
I wont, devour myself.
Sep 6, 2020
Sep 6, 2020 at 4:26 AM UTC
I don't talk about my self harm much
Because I can't do it without revealing
The depth of my desire
It's like, how someone would talk about their favorite food, or ***
The scars on my body
Are a momento to the capacity
To turn pain into pleasure
An escape into which
I can dive
Flesh first.
They speak of sins of the flesh.
I would compare my urge
To gluttony, or lust.
The thing about addiction tho
Is that it's a lot like walking a tightrope
Everything in balance
But theres no net.
I'm a self taught gymnast
Twisting myself to prove,
How far I can push myself
A mastery over my own body
And the, click, click, click
That only knows one way to be silenced
I don't know how else to love my body
But to define it by what I can take from it
And I have a habit
Of being, oh so, very greedy
When I let someone love me
I find myself hoping
That they have enough hunger to consume me
So that maybe
I wont, devour myself.