Someone once asked me
Bright eyes full of concern
“Who hurt you?”
I only wish I could have told them, that would be the kind of pain I long for
I have dealt in the currency of broken hearts ever since I realized I had one
That is the pain I know how to break with, how to mourn, how to survive
The one I cannot escape is the hurt I unleash on myself
In the quietest hours of the night, the anger, the shame, the hatred that has no end
It’s the screaming that I can’t quite get to quieten down
The cuts that leave no visible marks
It’s the harsh eyes that find nothing worth looking at
It’s an ocean of insecurities that I willingly deep dive into
A part at me forever at war with the rest
It’s the endless wondering and wishing I could be better
Who hurt me?
Oh I did, and I don’t know how to stop.