by Hannah Yale
lying in bed, peeling off my skin–
I try to be careful but I always end up bleeding.
it’s impossible to escape the pain,
and I don’t want to pass it on.
hands like smoke
and sunken, onion eyes–
a candle, bleeding at both ends.
everything goes dark as I fall and hit the floor, alone
take my skin away from me,
take my body, please–
I am already invisible,
trudging endlessly through sleepless nights
a sleepless life, alone.
and I don’t give a shit anymore.
I am too tired; I have too much rage.
I know I’m a disaster with sour breath and flaming hair,
a mess with a pen and a paintbrush
just trying to feel something–
but i will love myself through it all because i know
that i am doing the best i can with what i have right now