in suicide, i'm left alone.
my pockets, filled with heavy stones
will guide me to my last mistake -
i'll drown myself in Blackett's Lake.
i'm sad and want to kill myself.
i keep a knife tucked in my shelf.
a little cut, a little slit -
when i'm alone, i'll slash my wrists.
my doctor withholds all my pills.
i wait a week between refills
because he thinks i'll eat them all.
i think that he would be appalled
to know how tricky i can be.
my illness takes a hold of me.
it's something i've done more than once -
i hoard my pills for months and months.
i hide it well, but i'm a wreck.
i'll wrap this rope around my neck.
asphyixiated offerings,
i'll kick the chair and then i'll swing.
i'll live with this, my last mistake.
the last mistake i'll ever make.
i know that i'm not coming home.
in suicide, i'm left alone.
i get into these fits of mood
that make me want to kill myself.
it's self-destruction, i suppose.
i keep my sharps upon the shelf.
i need to fuck my body up,
i'll die before i ask for help.
i sometimes burn. i sometimes cut,
or pierce my flesh with sewing pins.
when i'm not starving, i throw up.
i shave my head down to the skin.
one cigarette? i'd rather two.
i chase my beer with shots of gin.
it makes me feel somewhat new,
these things i feel i have to do.
Every night is Christmas Eve
when I'm waiting for you to
come back to me,
and every day is Christmas Day
when you have come back
here to stay.
I got my clit hood pierced last week,
I drove five hours to get it done.
I shaved myself til I was sleek
and then I went to have some fun.
It happened very quick, and I
was pierced by someone else's son.
I cursed and swore but did not cry.
It hurt at first, and then did not.
I'm sure you want to know just why
I even had this foreign thought.
The answer is, I am a freak
who finds herself in body mods.
I've always had a wicked streak.
I got my clit hood pierced last week.
I vomit into paper cups,
I pierce myself with safety pins.
The wastelands are where I grew up,
the wastelands are where I am thin.
A burnt and barren place of force
and hate and rage upon my skin.
It once was green. It's since been torched.
There is no water. I'm unwashed.
The flesh is sick. My heart's been torched.
I keep my pain upon the cross.
I add and build and reconstruct -
I'll take it all, at any cost.
Your coming here was quite abrupt -
I didn't think that you'd show up.
The girls are talking in my head.
It's something that I keep inside.
I won't record what they have said.
every month it starts like this -
something breaks inside my head.
i start to bleed from out my slit,
i start to wish that i was dead.
the tides don't stop and they are mad -
i cannot swim. i'm made of lead.
i just become so fucking sad.
i don't know how to make it stop.
it makes me think that i am bad,
it makes me feel like we have fought.
i always have to take the hit,
i always have to take the shot.
every month it starts like this -
i start to bleed from out my slit.