Hit me

Can you please hit me. Take away this idea of self-harm, impose unto me something to be pitied. Bring me closer to you as you ram your fist into my face. Look into my eyes, am I cold? Every punch you give me warms parts of me I thought I wouldn't be warm. I lay on the ground heated, blood flowing to where it is needed. Laying on the ground seemingly lifeless. I gain more attraction as people come to see me, I smile to know they notice me. They see me smile, deranged it seemed, but they don't understand. I fade in and out of consciousness. My mind goes back to each punch given, the force each blow had was tremendous, I hear my jaw break, my ribs crack, my collar bone potentially snapped, and nonetheless my teeth; absent from my mouth, their roots still in there sockets. Am I perfect now? I say as the room full of hospital personnel crowd around me, as I smile.