I'd purge, if I felt there was something viable to purge.
I'd cry, if I saw the end of tears.
I'd scratch off my face, if it ended this pain.
I'd kill my own self,
If it only killed the 'self' that feels this way.
If it made sure that version,
That weak, mutable self that I became in your eyes,
Was finally lost into some forest I lead it into,
As if some wicked, wanton, ill gotten pet.
