yet again, it happened
a cry of frustration, a scream
then a somewhat satisfying smack
of skin on concrete
not enough to bleed
not enough to leave a bruise
but enough to hurt for days

not every mark is visible
not everyone can see
what is happening to me
what's going on in my mind

a place held under lock and key
easily hidden away
so i can make people stay
by making them blind.

but sometimes there comes a day
where i can't hold it inside,
for fear that something within me has died
and maybe it has