Inside Poem by maria goodison

I'm angry and hurt but do not
know which one is worse.
The tears that fall or the fist
that bangs the wall.
Then if i am lucky the dive will
not be that bad.
Going from happy to sad despite
the world of hands.
The knith come out and cuts my
arm, its the only thing that i
Control.
My head fills with such madness
that i do not see, feel, i do not
care.
I'll take the drugs that call and the
drink that pour in to my glass.
Some how it taste like blood but i will
Not say.
No one know what change is taking place.
The hurt turn in to a new skin and holds its
arms around me for I expect nothing else.