Poem - Deep Little Cuts

It's so harmless,

isn't it?

It only cuts just

a little bit

Those little lies

we tell

The cracks slowly form

in our shell

I'm stupid

we may say

Or I'm fat

on another day

We collect them for ourselves

like little books on shelves

In the hope they aptly deflect

from the deeply wounding affect

of the thousands of self inflicted

deep little cuts