Hello. Poem by Christina Shischell

Hello.
I want to open up my wrists
Burn them closed
Do it all over again
Until they make a perfect image of my heart.
What would make a perfect image of yours?
An absence?
And empty seat, building, city, highway?
I am alone.
At night I pray that you may have some sort of
Breakthrough.
In the daytime I drift
Half existing, half already dead.
In the mornings I awake
In tears
Mourning the fact that I am alive
Again.
One prayer or the other has to be answered.
Both can't be ignored.
I am bleeding out, on the hour..
Will I rot here again?
In the summertime...
My dreams are haunting me.
They reveal a different twist of fate..
Every human feeling burns a bigger hole.
I sit and I wish that I could be her
And I resist the urge to punch with my raw fist
Every mirror in this god damned house
So that I don't have to look and the filth and waste
That deprived me of my deepest desire.