Untitled

I keep pressing my fingernails on to my palms
Resisting the fact that I'm not calm.
I may be all wrapped up in your arms;
but where's the warmth?
Where's the warmth?
I'll leave you in silence.
Only thinking that my presence
is a violation. It's a violation.
I'm crossing over the fence.
What we've come to understand has lost its sense.
What's the sense?
Hey pain, I'm here. Prove to me I'm real.
This thin icy sheet of steel is inviting as it feels.
Because crying is useless. Because I won't cry, it's hopeless.
The emptiness speaks with my voice.
It is never a choice.
"What choice?"
I keep pressing my fingernails on to my palms
trying really hard to be calm.
I'm arguing with my conscience; please give all these some sense.
Because crying is useless. Because I'm bleeding.
I'm bleeding with my wounds invisible.