carved “I am better than this” on the inside of my thighs and in the morning the scars just read “Weakness.”
My own fingers are abusive.
So shoot me with a silver bullet,
hold my hands away from their victim.
I do not have layers of eyeliner and teen angst.
I am not a little girl just looking to get looked at.
I do not walk down the street, or across it. I just live there.
This is like breathing in pine pitch.
It’s like the shower water is gasoline and you’re playing with matches.
It’s like looking through a stack of needles for a piece of daylight.
It’s like saying it’s a rusty nail, saying it’s barbed wire, saying it’s a cat scratch-
it’s telling your mother it was an accident.
It’s not doing the one thing you want to when you know it only hurts yourself, so why the hell not?
When all you want to do is break like bones, and go into the drawer that isn’t ever opened anymore.
I am not looking for pity. I have baskets full.
Poetry slam reading: http://youtu.be/P_ijQvowO7I[/embed]
Author’s Tumblr: http://sierrademulder.tumblr.com/[/embed]
Poem Title Werewolf
Author Sierra DeMulder
Source poetry slam
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By Draco Malfoy
Each night you will try so hard
to touch his face. Your fingers
will shake. You will be crying
and you will not know why
and it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault
he is an un-swung axe.
By Draco Malfoy
Lines from the poem:
you followed me into the bathroom
where I drunkenly pulled down my pants
and sat on the toilet. you stood at the sink
and commented on my underwear,
not looking long enough to notice the scars
on my thighs.
Full text: What We Hide From Others – Sierra DeMulder