(Written at age 16.)
Betrayed by my own tears
That refuse to flow,
Burning behind my eyes,
But refusing to show.
I want to cry,
I want to let it out,
I want to be weak,
I want to shout.
I want to howl,
I want to hit,
I want to hurt myself,
Bit by bit.
I feel incomplete
Without pain
The restlessness settles in
Once again.
Hurt me more, hurt me full,
Let not any part of my soul uninjured go,
For then my tears,
Just might flow.
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