Something Satisfying

Its satisfying in a way, to have my body match my heart,

the pain inside reflected, inside and, now, out;

I know that the mental side is worse, but it is a start,

that is why I feel the need to scream and yell and shout.

I know that it is thought defying, 

and I know I shouldn’t cut;

but there is something very satisfying 

about watching my blood run

I’m standing in the shower

with blood pooling at my feet;

I know I can’t feel much lower

and its not helped by the heat.

You see, its hard to hide the scars

when its too hot to wear a coat

and now I’m laying underneath the stars

an aching in my throat.

An aching from the screaming,

and the yelling and denying,

from all the time spent lying,

telling myself I’m not just surviving.

Surely there is more to me than

just getting through the days;

I tell myself that I’m a strong man

but inside I feel weak and I know that it decays.

I’m so much like a zombie,

(not for eating brains),

but for the rotting dead feeling,

and as they say “it never rains..

..it pours”

and I’m struggling to keep going

I am crawling on all fours,

but, inevitably, I am slowing.

and now I have reached the end,

of the poem, not my life,

although I feel that fast approaches,

so for now this is good bye!