Thorns

Dear self

Why

Why when you wake must you feel the need to cover yourself in thorns

You know what this brings to the world

Destruction

Self-hate

Anger

Violence

Yet you persist

When you walk down the stairs in the morning you leave behind a trail of blood

Some fresh

Some old

And the stench lingers

It permeates your clothing, your hair, your life

And you let it

There is no fight in you to tear and claw and dismantle and break

These chains of vines that you enclose yourself with

It is not only you who suffers

Those you pass and love and hate and yearn for

They are torn apart too

Yet you persist

No matter the countless times they break your skin and hurt you

These thorns remain

You tell yourself I will do better and you rip them from you

Only in a week for them to return sharper and more abundant

You begin to lose track of when

When

Where you born in this prison of thorns or is it what you’ve built for yourself

You want better

You cry

Scream

Anguish

Belittle

Yet the thorns persist