Hurt to Blind the Pain

Hurt to Blind the Pain

I just want to pull my hair
out at the roots
And stare at the mass,
lay it on the grass.
Notice the contrast.
Brown and grey
on brown and green.

I just want to scratch
and bruise and cut
me.
To make places of hurt
ON me,
to take my focus from
the pain
IN me.

I just want to bleed.
to watch the drips
drop.
To feel the warm life
fall out & hope
that it'll take
the pain
away.

How could you wound me
thus?
How could you look on another
and lust.
Cheat.
Then lie.
I just want my feelings for you
to die.

Oh, how you hate me.
Let me count the ways.

You hate me in the morning
when you make food for everyone,
including the dog,
but not me.

You hate me bright and early
when you neglect prayer and scripture reading
saying that you think I would be angry
so you don't dare.

You hate me just before you go to work
when you avoid me
saying nary a word to me
and leave without speaking
to me.

You hate me when you return
at night
when you say not even one word.
Just do what you do
and think nothing of me.

You hate me through the night
by not asking to be near me.
By not "daring" to touch me.
You truly do
hate me
In actions AND
words.

You hate me
with every puff you take.

You hate me
with every curse you hurl
at me.

You hate me
with every click you make
that leads to a view
of another's body
you view.

You
hate
me.

I
love
you.