21 July 2012
The knife-edge glimmers
With a promise of release
From pain, passion, love-unrequited,
I know how it feels;
Cold blade slicing hot skin,
Warm rush of blood, endorphins kick in,
And I yearn for that bitter-sweet relief,
Just for a few moments
Before the guilt and fear begin,
And I rush-struggle-shake
As I hold a clean towel against
The mess I've made,
White cotton will never be the same.
Just another scar on my forearm,
Another garment stained,
Just another reason to hurt myself again.
As much as the knife beckons me,
Teasing, taunting, flirting,
As I press the steel against my skin,
I know no good can come from our
Destructive relationship,
So I resist the urge to slice,
To plunge the blade deep inside,
And return the knife to the block,
The kitchen counter,
For a while.
Knife • Opuss № I