Quit Hitting Yourself, Quit Hitting Yourself

It's like that,
but the bruises
are your best self
being boned,
drudged, left
to spoil alone.

All miracles
are so quick
to desert me
but my hells
are a thousand
times themselves.

Engulf ground
you walk on,
raze every tree
you walk under.

Super-sleuth
for clues that
brain (tender
pulsing tooth,
press to feel
the pain)
was correct
to encourage
regress.

I don't
know why
I can't let
it let.

From a distance,
everything
beckons.

But within—

well.

Find
out for yourself
what manifests
repair, and
what was made
to remain broken.