inward smiles

I cannot 

do what I do best

here.

I cannot cope

in destructive ways,

I cannot cope

period.

All I feel is sadness and anger

sadness at the past

and anger at the future

and during the present

numbness.

I cannot drown

my memories with a bottle

I cannot slash and slash my wrists

until all I see is red

and the rage in my chest subsides

to a dull throb

After having a remarkably bad day

I go the bathroom

and sit in silence

and suddenly,

I'm pounding at the door 

with all my might

the door rattling on its hinges

I feel nothing

All I know is the darkness

so familiar

encasing me

and the sound of flesh and metal

meeting wood.

The lights flicker on.

I still feel nothing

the anger reduced to a dull throb 

not much unlike my heart.

The skin on my knuck;les is gone

blood forming

flesh swollen,

like ripe, rotten fruit prepared 

to fall off a tree

towards the end of summer

The view is not promising.

The door looks worse

paint scratched off

in many grooves

I can count the many places my knuckles hit the door.

Inwardly, I smile.

I managed to drain my hurt and anger

while hurting myself at the same time.

A success.