poetry collection

Two

I don't know if I am a good person.
I have lied
I have left
I have wished ill will onto others.
I have been jealous
I have been stupid
I have been naive.

I have done almost everything
That has been done to me.
I do not view myself as a victim
When I am speaking of my person in her entirety
Because I have been the evil.
I have been the villain.
I have been the enemy.
I have taken low blows and hit others lower.

I know what t0 say to get under their skin
What to say to leave an impact
A mark
A hole in their chest.
Maybe it is for Revenge
Maybe it is out of spite

I do not know if I'm a good person.
Do bad people dwell on the morality of their mistakes ?
The fragility of their victims ?
I sit in my bed and I cry for them
I curse my reflection staring
as I ask myself,
"Am I bleeding for them?"
Is this even my flesh ?

All I see lining the pale insides of my arms are their faces
I can feel the betrayal
I can feel the sting of my words
Maybe I hurt them to punish me ?
Because it's not a conscious decision
I do not have control of the words pouring out of my mouth.
My reflection in their eyes
The hatred I feel when I stare into them
Their blood is on my hands
Their voices are in my head

I do not know if I'm a good person
Or what a good person really even is at all.