Sweeter Than Blood

There have been people

who have bled more than me.

There are blades sharper than mine own and

hands stronger than mine and wills harsher.

You say a cutter is a cutter

forgetting that I never tried to die

forgetting that I did this to stay alive.

I think if we understood each other better

you wouldn’t cry for me.

Maybe you would be angrier

Maybe you would be angry

for what I’ve done to myself even if

it wasn’t to get your attention.

It doesn’t matter;

the truth is I have betrayed you.

These hands preferred to see my blood free

than to pretend to hold yours in the night

than to dream of touching your cheek in the dark

My blood is on fire because of you

and I cannot keep burning

if there is no wax left.

Do not allow yourself to be my tinder.

Do not let me take you for burning

do not let me touch you.

Do not let me hear that soft tenderness

that creeps into your throat when you want to cry—

Let me do the remembering.

This is my fault; let me lick my blood clean

and bandage my own wounds.

Let me comfort myself.

Let me heal the broken things in me

and build the fallen structures;

one day if I come back to you

you will not have to be sad or angry.

The scars, no matter how deep

never remain as vivid as they were at birth;

the redness fades and the memory falls.

One day I will come to you clean

full of scars half remembered, take me

as your friend.  Do not speak of kisses

but instead of warm words in the autumn leaves

we will be friends.

When I am well again

we will be friends.

The End

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