I am placeless raceless faceless
I’m shameless blameless fameless
might as well be nameless
I’m not starving
not drowning
I am nowhere near death that anyone can foresee
I have not been abused, violated, tortured or neglected

and this is my problem.

Give me a reason for my misery
Justify my anger, my angst
My weights are made of paper
my chains of diamond
my collar is a braid of daisies
my blood leaves imaginary streaks on flawless skin
I am my reflection
whole, untarnished, unshattered

and that is my agony.

I want my trauma in a single shot
not a tall bottle to sip from
not a champagne flute to twirl
I want a hammer in my skull
a blade to my throat
a fire to sleep in and
broken glass to swim in
Touch, my wrists are unmarked
my blood untainted
my eyes unmisted by tears that have not fallen

There is nothing wrong with me,
and this is my horror.

Note: Blame Plath xP