Anodyne

I could ask a million questions  
But they would only leave me wanting more...    
   
An endless loop    
of desperately searching      
for explanations.    
But understanding    
will never    
alleviate    
pain.    
   
No    
          answers...    
                             analysis...      
                                                    exegesis...    
                    
                         words...    
 
...nothing,      
Capable of    
counteracting    
open wounds    
from hemorrhaging.    
   
suppose that’s how it should be...    
   
When I convinced myself    
to tolerate    
less than deserved,    
Letting you    
get away with    
calling it    
love.    
   
With each wound inflicted,    
our eyes bound by contrition,    
I love you,    
absconding on our breath...    
   
My fingers    
intertwined with yours,    
as the    
knife    
pierced    
my flesh,    
Leaving the    
crimson shame    
staining    
both sets of hands..    
   
And me to clean up the mess.