I've treated my body like nothing but just flesh
When really, it has of its own a mind and a soul so warm
Bruised, torn apart, self abused, cut and treated like trash
Pleasure for some or me in need of some self-harm,
I trace each scar along my body over and over
So deserving of this torture
I can feel the agonising pain
All this blood is beginning to leave a huge red stain

flipping pennies
into wishing wells
i still hope
for you

s.s

stillness
is
translucent red,
if you were wondering

it's the see-through red
of your eyelids against
the sun
invading your
sight
when you would rather
see the darkness
than what is in front of you

it's the see-through red
of the unfinished skin on
the son
assailing your
sight
when you would rather
see the movement
of who is in front of you