first piece of poetry i've written in years. TRIGGER WARNING

do not read if you're SI  it's bittersweet: born of torment, of self-loathing, of pain, of my own hatred for myself & for anyone who dares to care for someone as hopeless as i am.  and yeah, i'm rusty, so it's no piece of art, but at least i feel a bit better getting these feelings on paper. Curse If you brighten my dayI'll tell you to go away.If you shelter me through the stormI guarantee it will result in naught but harm.It's best that you keep away.Pass me by.  Turn the page.I'm a rabid skunk you shouldn't aid.I'm the stain that just doesn't fade.This is best for all involved.Your problems I cannot solve.Your intentions may be true.But I promise I will destroy you.In some way, shape, fashion or formI will make you curse the day you were born. That was right after a case of SI.  I had to do it.  I needed that rush, that blissful adrenaline flow that comes from taking your own life into your own hands.  And then the release.  It's been so long.  I missed that feeling.  That's an emotion I can deal with.  And then the bitter sting as the slits try to clot.  The raw ache of open flesh against my clothing.  Just writing about it makes me want to do it again, but I don't keep many sharp things @ home (for good reason!).