i told myself i'd stop
i promised you i would
but in the end its just a bunch of words to be heard and not understood
i stopped for a while
i promise that it's true
but life just got to be too much
i screwed up
i failed
i just wasn't fucking good enough
so then i punished and comforted and shamed and cried all in one
i stopped again
for a little while
promised with all those empty words that i was done
promised that all the heartbreak and joy and pain and achievement and failure and cruelty wouldn't be too much
as if
as i spun my lies and muttered sweet nothings and broke flimsy promises
the need was great
the scars now shine
im not worth it.
im crafty about hiding
long shorts
a jacket thrown over an arm
a bent elbow
it's all so easy when you are trying not to see
it lifts me up
it drags me down
i cant seem to stop
through all the lies and promises and crocodile tears only one thing has stayed constant
my fixation with the blade
my addiction to the blood
the silvery-pale lines criss-crossing my body
but who cares?
it's all empty words anyway.
