Sickie Not Sick

I have a sick mind.  

Thinking about death:
mine and others'; all day.
While they're trying to get out
On a page
Or even a canvas.
Either way

Sometimes they become too much.
That's when I let them out on myself.

Head but the wall a few times
Use my basically non-existent nails
To tear at a few areas of skin on my legs.

Whatever it takes
To make it through another day
Out the shrink's office.