Cut Deep

Where did I learn the need to compete?
To be better than?
Smarter than?
Prettier than?
Greater than?
Worthier than?

A knife,
slicing into me.
Right down the middle;
carving its way down and through me,
carving sick smiles and twisted lies, and
leaving trails of
bright
red
blood.

The tears that won't go away,
the tears that pour out of me —
silently —
while I smile through it all.

And now, as I pick up the pieces,
I learn to hold me.
To love me.