Mark or Break

Sometimes
I feel like throwing myself against the mirror
to break the image
and feel the glass shatter
Or by accident
slip and tumble down the stairs
as if my bones didn't matter
But so far
all I've done are the marks on my arm
So far
all I've done is be cheated by your charm
It's not that I enjoy the pain
but when my chest tugs at an incessant ache
Burning through, I must find an outlet for the hurt
or break.