I Enjoy Hurting Myself

I will quite happily listen to the same songs
That make me think of panic attacks on the bus home

That remind me of how much I hated you
Or how much I loved you

That take me back to suffering in silence at school
And pretending my friends gave a fuck about me

I enjoy hurting myself
Because digging up all my corpses where I’ve shed my different skins

Is like injecting infected blood into me
And I long to taste memories such as that one where you broke my heart

Or where you stopped being my friend and started being a dick
Or where you said you didn’t love me anymore by the beach

Or being forced to suck your dick because you thought you still owned me
Or having his tongue tattoo me and her words forge me like I were metal to be stained

Or not being supported by my best friend when I was stuck for choice
Or seeing the disappointment people have had in their eyes when they look at me sometimes

I enjoy hurting myself
I love folding the pages of my history

I love poking at the scars
I don’t enjoy forgetting details

I thrive on them
They are the wounds that never healed

And time never fixed them either
So I enjoy hurting myself

I enjoy pain
I suppose.


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