An itch on my left shoulder
causes me to scratch for a moment.
Itch itched and
my hand casually remains
as I’m drifting into thought.
Unknowingly my digits caress
down my arm.
Sudden pain.
I’m jerked back into the now
by a stinging sensation.
Ahh- yes. I remember.
my inside voice says.
I lift my sleeve and
as my eyes focus
they also fill with tears.
I cut myself today.
Two burning cuts in the hot shower.
It’s like I have this special power-
the ability to make whatever I’m feeling
dissipate.
Everything…except for the hate.
I was anxious as I gathered my robe and towel
-couldn’t hardly wait to alleviate.
It feels brand new INTENSE like it was in the beginning.
When blade meets skin
in reflex I wince,
cry out in pain.
To my great pleasure,
it hurt again.
Raping my reborn-virgin skin.
Blood pools in the drain and
I’m feeling light-headed.
Water beats down on me,
finding its way to my exposed white flesh and
it scalds the tender meat.
Again, I can’t help but cringe and for a moment
I lose my air.
I find relief in the real-ness of the pain.
Now it’s starting to scab and I pick at the crust
with my fingers
as I replay the scene
and the sickness lingers.