donedonedone

turn yourself inside out.
make your sweet skin bitter,
tongues on tissue and organs

anger, again
instead of sorrow.
maybe you're defective

give up now
just like before
and, you're sure
just like the many times
that will follow.

you don't know
what he wants
and you'll never bother to ask

because you don't want
to know
but you do.

you're such a divided person
split, maybe.

you know you'll never
accept love where it's given.
every time it is
you give it away.

it's happened all but once
but it's never spoken of

and you're just a machine
on repeat
heart monitor for a
coma patient
or a child learning
a song.

maybe you have a lust for being destroyed.
you set yourself up
to be picked apart.
thrown around.

shut the fuck up.
let self hate engulf you.
all it ever did was better you

and that's pathetic
but also lovely.

in your head; a phrase
chanted over and over
a mix of
"give up and get out"

and you wish to live by it,
obey it,
but you know things will never change
and you'll always notice
in black and white
figures swimming in your peripheral
vision