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masochistic epistemology

I tried to hurt myself using you 
weaponizing you 
turning your care ballistic 
and my softness into weak armor 

i tried to use the hollows of your lower back as landmines 
your words as small sharp blades that fit into old razors and broke in twos 
your lips as quagmire meant for drowning 

i used your attraction as fission
a devastating proxy for the 
surplus destructive energy in 
my own mind

when your love was not enough 
i used your presence as war horns 
alerting formations of my hearts cavalry 
into attacking your defenseless desire 
your scattered battalions that were only looking for me 

when I waged this war,
i even used your indifference to hurt me 
a blunt injury sustained under my very living skin 
a slow passage of bloodclots into a series of hurtful colors 

why? 
why do we cut ourselves?

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