***

I looked inside
the cuts slicing through my skin
and found that I was
rather empty;
To realize
the things I could contain—
love, feelings, thoughts,
wonders, and dreams—
had been spilled in weary.

Why did I—
someone not made of walls—
built defenses and tormented
against myself?

Why did I
when I could have embraced
instead pushed aside
what I could have deserved?

Why did I
when I was but a shell
chose to break my soul
before others did?

Why did I
when I was but a chance
demeaned myself away
before my possibilities?

What am I really scared of?
What am I really made of?

What am I?

#April182017