Self Aware

I wrote this poem,titled self aware, a few months back. Writing and well art in general have become my automatic coping mechanism. Which is great, absolutely amazing, because as of February of this year I can say I haven't self-harmed in a year (over a year now since it's May). Okay well enough rambling..here's the poem
Lying in wait
jilted, by a fictional betrayal
you approach
a smile flickering across your face
unaware of the wound, the scars
that have surfaced
you pulled the trigger
without even knowing ,there was a gun in your hands
I lie in wait
needing to transfer the pain
pass along the disease
as if hurting an innocent
would magically erase the pain,the torment
that has formed and engrained itself in my bones
I know,
I know
in my head you are not the others
but their face's flood my vision
memories tearing a hole in what should be a happy moment
it's blinding
your face falls as I speak
attacked viciously without cause
confusion and hurt spreads
I'm left alone
no relief from anger
and then the guilt comes
I knew,
knew
not too
but I did it anyway
knew the outcome
saw the future
because it's the past
stuck as the world moves swiftly on
unable or unwilling to let go
comfortable in my own sickness
in my cage