My aunt tells me

Be careful with your heart

And I promised her I would

But I couldn't tell her

That it wasn't my heart I had to be careful with

It was my mind

I went to the kitchen
hot milk and yeast
to calm me

I climbed up
out of the pit
to get here

giving up
confused
giving up what I know

looking for the ****
of consolation
and safe harbor

I came here
to make sense
of the confusion

my tears coming
from a place new
strange uncharted

Twain is here
maybe Plath
not my Path

searching for
the Sage in me
Is she here?

you tell me

'Every competition - is not
A struggle to win over others
But a battle over one's own insecurities
To overcome a perception of exclusion'

I fell
deep
and drowned
in the waters
of your universe
In your eyes
is the solace
and belonging
the sense
of returning
home

⚠️Trigger Warning: The following poem contains subject matter pertaining to self-harm⚠️

~


In the beginning,

I used Bic pen caps
safety pins
jagged remnants of plastic
salvaged from a broken mechanical pencil
the serrated edge
of a paper towel dispenser--

gateways to razors
and Exacto knives.

Objects that were too dull
to split skin
but were still sharp enough
to leave their mark--
puffy, red scratches
accompanied by the
occasional pearl of blood,
dark rarities
that blossomed in rosy drops
upon the dominion of my flesh.

At the time,
I deemed my attempts
at self-harming
pathetic substitutions,
euphemisms in lieu of
the real thing:

deep lacerations from which
reservoirs of Crismon
were birthed.

Sometimes,
I still believe this,
even though it is
terribly unkind
to abbreviate my experience.

If my ninth grade
guidance counsellor
were to read this,
she would tell me that
it's not about the
depth of the wound,
or the means by which
the wound was acquired, but
rather
the existence of the wound

(the existence of the
hurting).

This is just pure madness.
He's the one I should love.
You'll break my heart and I know this!
I knew about it from the start.

They say there is a thin line between genius and madness.
I'm doing my best to balance between both realities at a time.
Smart enough to know the difference between good and bad.
Mad enough to still commit these sins, which is sad.
The path I decided to take no longer host light and captures darkness.
I guess you can say its more of a slipping off point.....