Tag Archives: sharp

The way I feel now

They burn my face, the cut my skin leaving behind the proof of my emptiness.

I bear the scars of my love and my loss and the pain . . . The pain so sweet and the release so complete.

The oblivion and the darkness of death calls me to them. Or are they in me already?

The numbness spreads from within me, the ice.

The ice sharp as needles, from inside me slowly crawling to the surface.

To feel it. To feel nothing. To slowly give in.

Accept to be one, only one. In the cold, in the darkness, in the arid emptiness of human life.

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Dear you

Dear you in the darkness, dear you at the razors edge, dear you with the dying heart.

Hear me and head me, or maybe not. In calmness and stillness I draw the blood myself.

The blood that drips and drops and slithers through me and over me. Red, slippery, coppery.

Life so small, so bright so red . . . My heart beat taking me away.

I feel the death, I feel the sting, I feel the fear.

Blinding.

Blinding in the light, and darknes. I sit very still, waiting to die. But I don’t.

Dear darkmes, I can not feel your hand in my throat. Gasping for air as you tighten your grip.

I want the pain, I want the blood, I want the warmth of your self inside me.

Drip, drip, drip . . . Red and red and black mad sharp. How sharp? So sharp I won’t feel a thing.

But I will feel it. I am numb.

I slide the razor through my arm, a thin red line. A thin. Red line.

The pulse slowly, slowly and then. Them the warmth of death and Dear You, my darkness. My darkness with your tongue between my legs.

 

The burn

It sears my skin through my clothing,
An imprint is left on my body,
Sharp as a needle, cold, strangely cold,
The pain, an electric current,
A scream dies in my throat.
I want more.