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Withdrawl from the Blade (Pint-Sized Poem #13)
Blood pounding in my ears.
Thoughts racing in my mind.
I need to cut. . .
Promises would be broken,
with just one slice.
Everything that I was working for what be. . .
Gone.
In an instant, as if it never existed.
Hands shaking--
Wrists itching--
Body aching--
I need that fix.
I need the blade.
Dragging across my wrists.
Leaving trails of crimson in it's path.
Panic sets in.
Losing focus.
Eyes close.
Nothingness.
Wake up.
All is calm.
No harm done.
No blood shead.
I sigh.
I lived through another withdrawl.
And I am still in one piece.
But how long until I am drowning once again?
Will I be able to keep out of the dread valley
of razors and knives?
Or will it simply kill me just to try?
Thoughts racing in my mind.
I need to cut. . .
Promises would be broken,
with just one slice.
Everything that I was working for what be. . .
Gone.
In an instant, as if it never existed.
Hands shaking--
Wrists itching--
Body aching--
I need that fix.
I need the blade.
Dragging across my wrists.
Leaving trails of crimson in it's path.
Panic sets in.
Losing focus.
Eyes close.
Nothingness.
Wake up.
All is calm.
No harm done.
No blood shead.
I sigh.
I lived through another withdrawl.
And I am still in one piece.
But how long until I am drowning once again?
Will I be able to keep out of the dread valley
of razors and knives?
Or will it simply kill me just to try?
Published 29th Feb 2012
| Edited 15th Sep 2017
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29th Feb 2012 6:25am
