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?
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.
I wouldn’t be me anymore.
It’s what everyone wants anyway.