Hate

BITCH!!!
And the word screams
past my ears,
settling deep
in the pit of my stomach,
twisting like a knife
carving out a pumpkin.
Just like the pumpkin,
my insides spill out,
running down
my cheeks,
leaving my eyes red,
my nose red,
my cheeks red and wet.
No umbrella anywhere.
I glance down at my fist
pounding my leg
rhythmically
and realize it's to
the chorus of
"We Will Rock You",
the beat just
one more way
to yell at myself,
this one more socially
acceptable than profanity
but not nearly as
satisfying.
As sobs break
the sound barrier,
I slam my fist
into my chair,
punctuating my
dark thoughts
with an exclamation mark
and adding a sharp pain
in my hand to my
inventory of
self-inflicted wounds.
The longer this plays out,
the more I realize
I'm going to lose
my will to be strong;
my dignity,
if I have any left;
my desire to be fair
to myself,
instead of just
SCREAMING
"BITCH"
over and over and over
again.
I could hate myself
a long time for this...
I just wish I knew what
I had done that was
so wrong.

NOTE: Sometimes everything just piles up and I follow my abuser's programming perfectly, ending up in a moment of extreme self-hatred without really knowing why. This is about one of those times.