I once had a theory
I used to hold as truth
About wounds
That maybe if I bleed
It would help avoid
Suffering a heart attack
It’s nowhere based on fact
And yet I continue to pull
This excess skin
By my fingernail
Until thin
Until blood starts
This burst like boiling
Violet to red, exposed
Circulation improved
By letting some out off
The circulation.
Then press it hard till pale
Heal this self inflicted pain
And then over again
Then guilt follows
As if what transpired is self-mutilation
An angry conversation
With myself
And no one’s winning
At least not me
It’s like looking fo salt in the sea
With no intent to work
Or collaborate with the sun
I just want the bleeding
To distract from
What’s breaking
danDAman 