Pheromones

It’s probably just the pheromones,
or maybe it was the “yes”  
when it should’ve been “no”.
 
I see patterns in your emptiness.  
with your decisions always relying on wit  
and quips sharp enough to slit my paper wrist.
But I got a couple tricks up my sleeve
Cut me open and tell me what you really see
For I was ever the clever one,  
but it’s never enough to outsmart myself  
when the storm inside my head insists on rain but I admit the gloom surely fits...
 
it’s a bitter rivalry with the other side of me,  
from hoisting flags to battle screams,
I never can tell which one is the better choice  
when they both just lead to anxiety,
 
it’s like I love to wallow
in my self-inflicted misery,  
chemically unclean,  
determined to rip myself from every seam,
 
but it comes so easily
while you just trace  
pretty broken hearts with your nails  
above the scars everyone else has made,
scratching deep in hope it bleeds through
and fills in the shade.