My skin ached
Yearning in soreness for a blade
A single blade to penetrate it
I sit and ponder
Why is there such a feeling
A burning desire for pain
Self inflicted pain
As if it hurt less coming from you and no one else
But doesn't it?
Doesn't the expected pain hurt less than the unexpected poison inflicted by those whom we thought could never do such a thing?
Doesn't the pain that comes from within give us time to brace ourselves for impact?
But why does such a feeling exist?
Why does my skin desire to be penetrated by thoughts of death
Why does my skin long to separate and expose the truth of mineself
And flow with all of my tears
But these thoughts and yearnings are not me
No these thoughts and aches are depression, anxiety, and self hatred
These thoughts are a society built to destroy difference
And difference is me
And for a moment it's okay to be different
But moments turn into hours and hours into days
And my skin screams in yearning again and again
And the blade shakes in my hand ready to oblige these thoughts and separate me from humanity
That single blade that my skin thirsts for shakes in my grasp ready to break into my body, into my broken beauty
And I just want it to stop
I want such a feeling to seize from existence
As it does for me
About the Creator
Alice Gru
I was mistaken for a porcelain doll when I was younger. That porcelain is now broken and expressed through poetry.
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