Hard Bones, Electric Wire: April

Hard Bones, Electric Wire: April

Trigger warning: graphic description of self-injury.

These bones are too hard.

I can’t break them.

I can’t feel my heart all the way behind them.

If I scratched off my skin,

I could hold these little blue veins in my wrists.

I can see them already.

Oh, God, I’m shaking thinking about it.

Why are they visible?

So vulnerable.

So tempting.

I could feel my heart in them.

I could know it was beating.

I could pull them out –

disconnect them like electric wire.

I could hold them like slippery blue worms pulsing between my fingers.

Then I could cut them open –

clean like the end of a hose.

I could watch the blood wash the floor or feed the dirt.

I could see myself fade in the pool.

No more chaos.

No more noise.

I could be deflated and flat.


Finally still.

I wouldn’t be me anymore.

It’s what everyone wants anyway.

3 thoughts on “Hard Bones, Electric Wire: April

  1. Abigail June 13, 2013 / 8:20 pm

    I’m confused by this…did April write this in the past or is she currently contemplating suicide? There’s no explanation given…


  2. Lois Manning (@lmanningok) June 14, 2013 / 10:53 am

    Please, April, even if you think it’s just a poem, you are asking for help, cliche aside. If anyone can give a contact, please help her at least seek it if she wishes.


    • April June 14, 2013 / 11:20 am

      I don’t usually explain poems since I think they lose power when they aren’t read through the reader’s own thoughts and experiences. This is a poem about the overwhelming pressure to be someone else and the sometimes consuming desire to physically mutilate oneself to match the mutilations others are forcing on one’s soul/spirit/person. This is not a cry for help but an expression of pressures from the past. Thank you for checking on me.


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