My arms ache and stomach burns,
Craving for the sharp stinging pain of the blades
Craving for the stomach wrenching pain, so similar to that of a knife,
The sharp pain of the starving, hungry people
My body craves so much,
For the pain of the broken
But maybe, maybe I am the broken
Maybe I'm just a monster,
A monster in need of punishment.
A monster in need of death.
Yes, death, that's what I'll do.
I'll punish the monster with death, but how?
Blades? starvation? pills?
How shall this monster die!?
Or will my punishment be to live?
No, living would be hurting others,
Dying would be saving them,
Saving them from the monster.
But how? How will I die?
YOU ARE READING
Behind The Barriers
Poetrywarning: poems may include homophobia, gay stuff, violence, abuse, self harm, and/or suicide
