I reek of death

I wish I was another woman all the time. I wish I was a woman that didn’t was the urgency to stay and the emergency to leave at the same time. A healthy woman, with a whole heart and a functioning body. A mind worthy of love. A body worthy of beauty. A soul worth of forgiveness.

I wish I was fitted for survival.

I am starving, you really can’t see?

It is true; I am craving to lead, to conquer. But my peace comes only when my sword is bloody and I still don’t know the war that can make my restrain win over my impulses. The moon glazing at me gives me performing anxiety and the air around me imprisons me inside myself so I will keep on fighting me in a eternal death match. I will win at the end. I always do. How to scape my own flesh when I am the flesh that thinks, feels and craves? How to scream down my throat to stop because I am hurting? How to hide inside my eyelids so I can find rest for a while? How to tell you that I love you, please leave?

Plea at my soul and body, not my mind.

My mind coagulates, dies.

My body does too.

I smell ripe, my time has passed.

What am I?

Hide under my ribs, I am scared of what I can do.

My head against the pavement when you aren’t watching, blood in my back from scratching while sleep, a pool of bile in my mouth every time I hurt. A noose made out of strings of pearls around my neck but I wont jump because he still thinks I look beautiful-

Open up my sternum and tell me

can you still find me?