Electricity spires in my veins, racing through
capillaries, dancing though arteries,
chocking my heart, frying
my brain. I can't
of the ache that I
can never get rid of. Maybe
it's the drugs. Maybe its the pain.
Maybe it's all the reasons why my mother
thinks I am insane. Maybe it's the
way I can never find a reason
to live longer than two
minutes at a time.
face that I
want to rip my skin
off 25/7, eight days a week.
Maybe it''s because I love the way
my blood looks as it runs down my legs
and I finally feel free when my wrists are wide open.