This Doesn't Count as a Poem

Lately, I've been eating my own teeth
So that I don't swallow my tongue for you again
The blood slivers down my throat
And settles in clots
In my stomach
Bits of skin caked in the creases of my gums
I save myself for later
(Crunch, crunch)
My fingers find their way
To pick out what doesn't chew
(And what does)
But when I look at them again
My nails are broken and jagged and bent
Dead cells missing points like busted pens
(Teeth teeth
Growing out of me)
I am not clean!
In the sense that
Every new layer of my skin
Is still pink and raw
Like when you slapped me so hard
I saw black for a minute
I saw eyes that didn't look at mine
Only my body
And the only thing I think now
Is if I'm ugly
Maybe you won't fucking touch me again