*Warning - depictions of Self Harm, Blood, Cuts, please read with caution.*
When I go to the hospital for a flesh wound I am referred to affectionately as "not a bleeder".
When a blade dips beneath the skin, muscle, and sinew all you see for a long while is the split.
The white space carved in my body.
The emptiness incarnate.
When my heart breaks inside me I could swear the doctors got it wrong.
I can feel the blood seeping from the organ - running from it like it's poisoned.
It bubbles up under my skin, turning my stomach, roaring in my ears.
It feels full. Like the spaces I'd see in my skin would be bursting with the red stuff.
Like the love I have was palpable.
Like the space you took in my heart, brain, and lungs is rushing to reach you.
Like it doesn't want to be stuck inside me anymore then you wanted to be stuck beside me.
How can I cut out the pieces of me that belong to you?
How do I give you back everything you gave if I physically cant?
How do I learn how to bleed for you?
Because for you,
if I could I would.
C.G.
YOU ARE READING
No one is there
Poetrypoetry book. all the things I've written that I could never say out loud. Some topics may be difficult for some people so check for disclaimers .
