i started cutting because i needed to find something that hurt more than your words

jy dwaal rond in my drome in elke sluk asem in elke traan wat my wange vlek elke euforiese oomblik is gekleur met skynsels van verlies ek het vandag jou stem in die sagte wind gehoor ek voel die laaste ritme van jou pols elke keur as jou ma my vas hou jy is oral behalwe waar ek jou die meeste nodig het - in my arms.

As you cradle me in your tired arms In the depth of depressive night and gently try to rock the tears away, I silently fear that perhaps this picture of supposed maternal solace is a premonition of what is to come; A distraught mother shaking her daughter’s lifeless self-inflicted pained body, trying to rock the answers out and gazing at the bloodstained walls hoping, though falsely, and too late, that the blood can still flow from a dead heart.