Crescent Moons and Skylines
A poem about coping
the sound of elastic every time I
to keep the natural enemy of my fingertips at bay
we're all addicted to something
so let me start with saying I don't like being hurt
but I like feeling
though I find the majority of my self-loathing comes from the way I can't stop staring at the tears and stains of my canvas from the constant urge to run fingertips over bruises and to press into the blank skin that dares to have none until the little red crescent marks surrounding the long red skylines remind me how beautiful it is to be alive
I call it punishment for that second piece of cake
for that third slice of pizza
and for the entire week spent without an outing of exercise
I call it punishment for chipping another crack in her heart after trying so hard to heal it
for forgetting the one thing my mother needed me to do
for doing nothing
and I snap
and I snap
to keep the fingertips at bay but the truth is
I want it.
excuse and punishment equate themselves in my mind and that only makes me more guilty.
I stopped for her.
I snapped for her.
I resist for you.
but the question always infects my brain
I'm not hurting anyone and I haven't left marks but
I wouldn't want her to do it
Even if I understand this obsession I can't understand why
I knew she understood because of the way she looked at me when I asked for her fingertips to commit the crime
and maybe that's why she couldn't sometimes
her eyes and your eyes are my only reason why
and I wish that was enough but
I yearn for just one physical tangible
why I can't tattoo my skin in temporary reds
and enjoy the beautiful sting
as long as the dawn fades at the end of the day
but I don't want your tears to wash it away
maybe because fingertips turn into knives and pills and suicide notes
and skin is not a piece of paper to be colored and torn
and I don't want you to think that I hate myself
or that it's your fault
maybe it's because no-one would understand
maybe it's because my body deserves better,
maybe it's because I deserve better.