The smell, lingering under my nose
Blood has a distinct smell
Like sex you know?
Tastes like metal.
Where's the little girl you have tacked up on your fridge
I killed her.
No wait you killed her
You saw me drowning
With words swarming above me
Or better yet my favorite
Smothering my innocent child like appearance
"Poor her" you laughed
I wiped it off, mumbled under my breath
And swallowed the words
I "put them in my little toe"
As my therapist says
"Oh, she has a therapist she must be crazy"
Well when your whole body is scarred
Because you can't control yourself around anything remotely sharp
I think a therapist is a good idea
Though she doesn't really help
Makes me feel worse actually ironic ain't it?
"Jess let's talk about your mom"
Makes me want to fly out of my chair and slit her throat open with my pinky nail
Then laugh and fly out the window
I was trying to remember when and where I went wrong
I think it was when I realized it feels good to hurt
Maybe when I was seven or so
Jumped out of tree
Scrapped my leg
Must have been then
Like I've mentioned numerous times
My childhood is still a blur
Drugs, sex, violence
My family couldn't have been worse
They tried sure they did
Look where it got me.
I still smile you know
"Yes auntie I'm fine"
Then run to my room and slice my thigh open
And sigh in relief.
I don't get why you insist it's bad
You keep me drowsy with pills
To numb my pain and suffering
That's why I cut
Same purpose, so why is it taboo?
So what if I hit a vein
Let me die
I still have yet to figure out why the hell I'm here anyway
To clean your house?
Pick up your dogs shit?
Baby-sit your kids?
I'm like a robot
I can't show emotion or everyone else will be too overwhelmed
No really it is.
I'm fine, you keep buying those disposable razors and I'm happy.
AN: I love this. Really I do. Ha-ha. I'm such a happy positive person