Some days

The splinter in my heart seems healed,

Yet those days I still feel it bleed

And hurt, that excruciating pain

Of being consciously slain …

From skull to toes, wrecked in half,

I let out a scream (or was it a laugh?)

Am I scared or am I relieved?

Rather be dead than be the object of need.

Drowning in darkness, choking on light,

I see no end to this immortal fight;

Anguished yet awake, I need to see

How wilfully I murder the entirety of Me.