the definition of shock - poems about depression, suicide, and self harm

cumbersome self-loathing

this body is so cumbersome and empty
full of bones i dream of breaking

hungry for fulfillment,
i hang to the thought

of how great the spoils are of wasting
this perfect body away

i am growing tired of this skin
how it holds me captive

gripping tightly to the ivory prison
i gush, the thought of carving in

a primitive temptress, a ghost of the past
a shadow on white fair skin

how i wish to paint it red,
to rekindle my flame again

how cumbersome this body can be

i've been sliced, and hit, and starved, and stuffed
what more could i wish to be done?

it craves the oil in a pain of rage
it loved how my skin must boil

oh may i ask
was this what you intended
when you created a demon in your image
do you hate yourself just as so
so am i just another flawed creature
born from a perfect god
destined to stray from their lies.