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