Slave

Hurt by another
I wound myself
clasped tightly
“this isn’t love . . .”
confined
close
suffocating.

I bled to control
unloose the grip
“cannot breathe . . .”

I bled to live
“this is real . . .”
thrilling
crimson trickle.

I bled to die
“make me disappear . . .”
give in
slippery grief.

I bled to be free
instead
I was chained.

Celebrating one year of no longer being a slave to self-harm.