Shadow Self (poem)

She’s fourteen.

Medium height, slender,

waist-length hair as blue as her eyes.

She once broke her bed

with a baseball bat.

Cuts her arms with kitchen knives.

Pounds the wall until bruises

blossom on her knuckles

like poison flowers.

Misanthrope,

she seethes and boils

at the foolishness of others.

She hates everyone.

Alone at night she cries, sobs out

the busted machinery of her heart.

She wants to be loved,

but pushes people away.

She hates herself most of all.

Published by GhoulieJoe

I wuvs the horror movies and like to write snarky reviews about them. I also included some pretentious as hell microfiction (don't worry, it's at the bottom).

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