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Savior Compulsion
Tell me you only feel like this with me.
Tell me I make you happy.
Tell me I’m useful.
Tell me you need me.
You can tell me you’re lying,
I’m lying too.
I promise I’ll never hurt you,
But some part of me hopes you hurt.
So I can pick up those pieces.
The selfish part of me that whispers behind all my words.
You can say you love me,
I scratch away the layers of skin you’ve touched.
I wonder,
Is it a savior complex or just a lack of self preservation?
I want to get my blood on your freshly bandaged arms,
It was my shaking hands who wrapped them.
I’ll leave a piece of myself in you,
Just so I know I’ve done something with myself.
I’m slowly running out of unscarred skin,
Can I borrow yours?
Tell me I make you happy.
Tell me I’m useful.
Tell me you need me.
You can tell me you’re lying,
I’m lying too.
I promise I’ll never hurt you,
But some part of me hopes you hurt.
So I can pick up those pieces.
The selfish part of me that whispers behind all my words.
You can say you love me,
I scratch away the layers of skin you’ve touched.
I wonder,
Is it a savior complex or just a lack of self preservation?
I want to get my blood on your freshly bandaged arms,
It was my shaking hands who wrapped them.
I’ll leave a piece of myself in you,
Just so I know I’ve done something with myself.
I’m slowly running out of unscarred skin,
Can I borrow yours?
Published 2nd Aug 2024
Author's Note
I am useless when I’m not helping others, and too useless to remember to help myself. Starved in more ways than one, I keep each kind word in the spaces between my ribs. I breathe them deeper than oxygen, I see them behind my eyelids as the world slowly goes dark. I don’t want to hurt anyone, but there’s something so romantic about matching scars.
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