October 24, 2001

Sickness

I hurt myself repeatedly, proudly, brazenly

The wound I carved into myself six weeks ago is still bleeding

Yet three weeks ago, I started another cut B similar

Only this time on a different part of my body...

Scars everywhere reveal my past self-abuse

Festering sores disfigure me, amputations bend my shape

Yet I am still intent on maiming myself B defiantly, arrogantly

Under any excuse. They abound...

I like to split myself into good and bad parts

Blame the bad for my plight

Then so focus on extirpating the evil from my being

That death itself seems worth courting in the process...

I poisoned myself intentionally two weeks ago

Stand watch now as pieces of me shrivel and fall to the ground

I can sense the poison spreading within me

It will last a millennium and I have no means to stop it...

I live in my own accumulating wastes

Disdainful of my deteriorating circumstances

I devour my life support system

As if there is no to-morrow...

Sometimes a frail little voice within begs me mend my ways

Saying all my parts are good enough and can function in harmony

I crush it mercilessly. How foolish this luxury of thought!

Pain has always been my bedrock. Torture brings life its cogency...

Most of my young know suffering early

Cold, hungry, ill, rootless, routinely assaulted

Starving for love by night, craving attention by day

They will forever inflict punishment, on themselves or others...

I am humanity

Traumatized since time immemorial

Depressed to the point of suicide

Delusional at times

Can anyone help?