something is wrong with me
i know it i feel it in the rot
under my ribs where all the good things die
because i killed them
i ruin everything i touch
and i keep touching
i beg for love then choke it
i make people leave then call myself lonely
my tears are rehearsed
my pain is selfish
i build disasters out of nothing
and call it trauma like it excuses me
the mirror doesn’t even flinch anymore
it’s used to me lying
used to me pretending i deserve breath
when i know i don’t
i am the reason it hurts
the reason they go silent
the reason the world feels heavier
i made it this way
something is wrong with me
and i made sure it stayed
because if i healed
who would i blame but me