Morning Routine

a poem

A knife twisting into my chest is the only way I wake up anymore

Cracking my ribs

Squeezing my arteries

It begins to sink into my heart

But gets stuck in the muscle

The sound of ripping lulls me into consciousness

For the first few seconds it feels good

Like I’m alive

But then I remember all the things that come with living

And I surrender to the blade

The hilt reaches its end in my abdomen

It is cold

I can see it sticking out in the darkness

I reach for it

Wiggle it around for a few moments

Learn about my body with each push and pull of my hand

I’m messing with something important

Ruining myself

I know I already have

I feel sick now and consider vomiting

I can’t at first

It has to circle in my head before I can bring myself to do it

I’m going to vomit

I’m going to vomit

I’m going to vomit

Usually by the third time it’s dribbling down my chin

I’m left breathing through a running nose

Throwing up has lost its effect on me

If I were in a situation where I couldn’t move

Vomit caked in my hair

Crusted on my chin

I’d eat it

It was mine to begin with

Dogs eat their own vomit

Am I as disgusting as a dog

Or is a dog smart enough to have another meal in his stomach

Even though it was already there

They don’t understand that

I don’t either

I yank the knife out of my chest

Blood follows in spurts

I hold it in my hand

The blade is close to my face

I move it so the tip is touching my nose

My eyes cross to focus

We’re looking at each other

We’re equals

I bring it down past my chest

Against my stomach

I press it to the indent before stabbing into it

I slice horizontally

Going deeper each inch I slide across

Until I start to feel organs work against the blade

I have to steady myself for this part

Take a deep breath

Contract all my muscles

Then I start chopping

Rough and fast until I reach the other side of my body

And there is an absence of anything in my middle

An emptiness comparable to how my head feels

It’s been strange for a while now

Thoughts aren’t coming in the way they used to

They push in from somewhere else

Loudly

Like they were meant for somebody else entirely

I can hear them but I cannot see them

Fleeting like a memory of my grandmother

And I am scared

I want to go away

Somewhere far

Somewhere nobody knows me

I want to make a name for myself

Try my hardest not to shit all over it

They’ll all probably think what a strange girl

Chalk it up to something very wrong with me

Though I’m not sure they’ll know what that is

I don’t either

All I know is I am sick

I can’t go a day without an awful thrum in my body

Like something in me is escaping

And all I can do is cut at it

In the small crevice of morning light

I can see it crowning

But I slice until it submits

Or maybe I killed it this time

Either way it falls back inside of me

Nestles into the slots of my spine

Like it’s been there my whole life

I decide tomorrow I will empty myself out completely

Break all the bones in my ribcage

And toss them around my room

For the same reason a child throws their food

Maybe that will sate me

Nothing ever has

But I let the thought that I’m not sure is mine comfort me

My next thought consists of hunger

Despite my stomach bursting long ago

I still have room for something

Or maybe I just want anything

That I can consume entirely

But nothing ever stays down

It just sits there

Waiting

Then morning comes again

And I am hurting all over

Like something inside me shifted while I slept

A knife twisting into my chest is the only way I wake up anymore

Cracking my ribs

Squeezing at my arteries

It begins to sink into my heart

But gets stuck in the muscle

The sound of ripping lulls me into consciousness

For the first few seconds it feels good

Like I’m alive

But then I remember all the things that come with living

And I surrender to the blade

The hilt reaches its end in my abdomen

It is cold

I can see it sticking out in the darkness

I reach for it

Wiggle it around for a few moments

Learn about my body with each push and pull of my hand

I’m probably messing with something important

Ruining myself

Some part of me knows I already have

I feel sick now and consider vomiting

I can’t at first

It has to circle in my head before I can bring myself to do it

I’m going to vomit

I’m going to vomit

I’m going to vomit

Usually by the third time it’s dribbling down my chin

I’m left breathing through a gushing nose

Throwing up has lost its effect on me

If I were in a situation where I couldn’t move

Vomit caked in my hair

I’d eat it

It was mine to begin with

Dogs eat their own vomit

Am I as disgusting as a dog

Or is a dog smart enough to have another meal in his stomach

Even though it was already there

They don’t understand that

I don’t either

I yank the knife out of my chest

Blood follows in spurts

I hold it in my hand

The blade is close to my face

I move it so the tip is touching my nose

My eyes cross to focus

Like we’re looking at each other

Until we’re equals

I bring it down past my chest

Against my stomach

I press it to the indent before stabbing into it

I slice horizontally

Going deeper each inch I slide across

Until I start to feel organs work against the blade

I have to steady myself for this part

Take a deep breath

Contract all my muscles

Then I start chopping

Rough and fast until I reach the other side of my body

And there is an absence of anything in my middle

An emptiness comparable to how my head feels

My head has been strange for a while now

Thoughts aren’t coming in the way they used to

They push in from somewhere else

Loudly

Like they were meant for somebody else entirely

I can hear them but I cannot see them

Fleeting like a phantom and I am scared

I want to go away

Somewhere far

Somewhere nobody knows me

I want to make a name for myself

Try my hardest not to shit all over it

They’ll all probably think what a strange girl

Chalk it up to there being something very wrong with me

Though I’m not sure they’ll know what that is

I don’t either

All I know is I am sick

I can’t go a day without an awful thrum in my chest

Like something in me is escaping

And all I can do is cut at it

In the small crevice of morning light

I can see it crowning

But I slice until its head drops in submission

Or maybe I killed it this time

Either way it falls back inside of me

Nestles into the grooves of my spine

Like it’s been there my whole life

I decide tomorrow I will empty myself out completely

Break all the bones in my ribcage

And toss them around my room

For the same reason a child throws its food

Maybe that will sate me

Nothing ever has

But I let the thought I’m not sure is mine comfort me

My next thought consists of hunger

Despite my stomach bursting long ago

I still have room for something

Or maybe I just want anything

That I can consume entirely

But nothing ever stays down

It just sits there and waits

Then morning comes again

And I am hurting all over

Like something shifted while I slept