Self-Harm

is agitated ticking, tapping
snapping, drumming, thrumming
with anger turned towards my
dumb bones, a humming drone
from the abyss, I scream
I hate myself even though
I don’t, I want to die although
I won’t. Curse my genes.
Rip me at the seams, snip my
threads, I want to bleed,
to bash my skull on concrete
and wash my conscience clean.
I scar like trees from wildfire,
knotted lines of lies I heard,
taught to hurt my own skin first
or worse, pretend there’s nothing
there at all. Before too long,
the storm will pass and blossoms
bloom. Red fruits burst forth
from coal-black gloom.

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