I try to deprive myself
of all the things I love,
but somehow that punishment
just never seems enough.
I wish that I could think
before my body acts,
but when the tears keep falling
and I feel like I have failed,
I seem to have no fight left in me,
and slicing up my skin
to cleanse all of my soul,
becomes the only rational thought
in this messed up, damaged mind
that I own.
