Manifestation of Self-Inflicted Hate
No, I don't like to capitalize in a lot of my poems.
This is an old poem I'm proud of and that symbolizes an important time in my life.
Manifestation of Self-Inflicted Hate
why do people hate themselves?
you always ask that when you can't possibly know.
why do you starve yourself? why do you cut?
why do you get high? why do you sell yourself for drugs?
why can't you love yourself?
only people untouched by this manifestation of self-inflicted hate
dare to ask that question.
and they will never understand.
i try to escape myself and run up the stairs
only to find it's a one-way elevator
i try to escape myself by breaking myself in the mirror
but my shadow just laughs behind me
i forget who i am when those pills touch my tongue
i forget who i am when i stare at the blood
i forgot what brought me here when i wake up
and i can't remember how to get out
how dare you ask me when you can't even know?
if you knew you wouldn't ask for you know there's no answer.
one can never be found; this isn't a test
there's no pass or fail, just a broken spirit and a second glance
you can't comprehend why someone would starve
why they can't forget what it's like to not feel empty.
you can't comprehend why i'm fascinated with my blood
as it contrasts with my pale skin, the false spirit i've become
i trip and i fall and i can't run away
hands hold us back, there's no chance of return
if you knew it, if you felt it you wouldn't ask questions
you'd know there's no answer for this one person dance
you'd understand that these words are a confession
not a meaningless plea for help that will never come
you'd understand i don't want pity or you to understand
i just want some release for the ghost i've become
why i lock myself in my room for hours, listening to the same song over and over
why i stare at my walls and the pictures i've plastered of everything and nothing, just a hollowness best forgotten
why i can't forget despite my vows and no matter how much i pull myself up, i just continue to fall back down
you can't understand, you can't possibly know, what it feels like to be me
i know from your questions, your pitiful and pitiless stares
i know from the look of horror on your face as you glimpse a white pill or a scar
i know from the way you can't look away no matter how repulsed you are
i know and you know but you continue to watch my dance
your questions are meaningless, a charade of wanting to understand
you know that you don't want to understand how dark a person can become
i'm a manifestation of self-inflicted hate
and you are nothing in my hazed over state.
This is an old poem I'm proud of and that symbolizes an important time in my life.
Manifestation of Self-Inflicted Hate
why do people hate themselves?
you always ask that when you can't possibly know.
why do you starve yourself? why do you cut?
why do you get high? why do you sell yourself for drugs?
why can't you love yourself?
only people untouched by this manifestation of self-inflicted hate
dare to ask that question.
and they will never understand.
i try to escape myself and run up the stairs
only to find it's a one-way elevator
i try to escape myself by breaking myself in the mirror
but my shadow just laughs behind me
i forget who i am when those pills touch my tongue
i forget who i am when i stare at the blood
i forgot what brought me here when i wake up
and i can't remember how to get out
how dare you ask me when you can't even know?
if you knew you wouldn't ask for you know there's no answer.
one can never be found; this isn't a test
there's no pass or fail, just a broken spirit and a second glance
you can't comprehend why someone would starve
why they can't forget what it's like to not feel empty.
you can't comprehend why i'm fascinated with my blood
as it contrasts with my pale skin, the false spirit i've become
i trip and i fall and i can't run away
hands hold us back, there's no chance of return
if you knew it, if you felt it you wouldn't ask questions
you'd know there's no answer for this one person dance
you'd understand that these words are a confession
not a meaningless plea for help that will never come
you'd understand i don't want pity or you to understand
i just want some release for the ghost i've become
why i lock myself in my room for hours, listening to the same song over and over
why i stare at my walls and the pictures i've plastered of everything and nothing, just a hollowness best forgotten
why i can't forget despite my vows and no matter how much i pull myself up, i just continue to fall back down
you can't understand, you can't possibly know, what it feels like to be me
i know from your questions, your pitiful and pitiless stares
i know from the look of horror on your face as you glimpse a white pill or a scar
i know from the way you can't look away no matter how repulsed you are
i know and you know but you continue to watch my dance
your questions are meaningless, a charade of wanting to understand
you know that you don't want to understand how dark a person can become
i'm a manifestation of self-inflicted hate
and you are nothing in my hazed over state.