Relief Poem by Kristi Grové

I cut myself and watch it bleed
every single day.
I think of him as tears fall down
to wash the blood away.
It's easier to feel physical pain
on the surface of my skin
than the agonizing pain
emerging from the hurt deep within.

My core aches at the thought of him
in another woman's bed
As tears fall down, I take my blade
and cut myself again.

Blood falling to the ground
carrying so much pain
But if it helps just a little bit
I'll do it again and again and again...