Self-Care Delight
by Dawg
Mirror’s mocking, skin still stained, masking madness, wrapped in chains,
sinking deep in scented lies, bath water cold but sold as fine.
Wrap the wounds in silver thread, paint the cracks, pretend they’ve bled—
self-care delight, sold in gold, wrap me up but leave me cold.
A perfect prison, a padded cage, worship the cure, ignore the rage.
Self-care delight, silk on stone, comfort kills when you’re alone.
Pills in pastels, sugar-laced, swallow silence, love the taste.
Screens scream mantras, burning bright, but no one saves you late at night.
Candle wax drips down the veins, drowning out what still remains.
Crisp white robes, a hollow touch, whispered healing, plastic plush.
Sage and salt won’t cleanse the past, when blood runs thick and shadows last.
Perfumed poison, dressed in white—they call it love, I call it spite.