god it would be nice to be so ignorant
it'd be really nice to ask that
it would be and so
i'm a little envious.
and, yeah, it's my fault.
i should have foreseen this.
but, by god, use some common sense.
everyone's staring now.
at the spot where my wrists meet the table nightly,
where the bruises line up almost methodically
like the kids in the courtyard.
at the white traces on my forearms,
like maybe i scratched too hard and one nail got caught
like maybe i pick the sharpest nail and rake my skin
at the scabs where my cuticles should be
because i couldn't focus today
i couldn't breathe and that tiny pull and that trickle of blood
made my lungs restart
and i feel like i should thank you
and i'm truly glad you don't know what you're talking about
but until then, please keep your mouth shut,
before you cause any further damage.
it's worse when it comes from your former best friend
like i know we don't talk anymore
but i saw you cry over your parent's divorce
and maybe there's nothing there but
it'd be nice if we could pretend like we still care
even though i know you don't
