Singing swiftly in the dark

automatic

The bracelets hide the scars upon her wrist

the sting of the strings brushing against the

        fresh wound

reminds her of the pain she keeps trying to subdue

the vibrant red, yellow, and blue a stark contrast

to her dark purple and black that's buried deep

when it's not today's agony.

It's almost automatic

when the tears bubble to the surface of her eyes

her fingers start to claw

each tiny scratch invoking a calmness

a way to breathe

to force her emotions into hiding a little while longer

every tinge of physical pain from a graze upon the open wound is

anesthesia for

the pain in her heart

when she goes to the gloomy places she consciously tries to avoid