the information website told me that
everyone wants to stop hurting but no one wants to die.
there is something awful about someone breaking down;
something you can't take your eyes off of, study it
and observe in detail the intricate machinery of pain.
cuts are not beautiful but they become a part of you,
deep grooves in the very tissue of your soul that
you trace your hand over and don't know if you're feeling
proud of remorseful.
the metal taste in your mouth when you chew away at yourself and when
your hands shake so fast it doesn't even look like you're moving and
drops of blood on a pristine white bathtub
can all be seen as art, as something beautiful
and delicate like a flower drowning in the rain but the fact remains
that pain is not beautiful, will never be beautiful-
do not make an art out of hurt.
