Black

A stab at a full-length poem.

          The razor blade kisses my skin
                       Causing me to regress
               To that damp, black place within,
              Where memories rip up my head.

               I've been there and back again,
                             To dark places.
                   Places I did not want to go,
            Stabbed by pins and needle deceits
                        Places you never see
                   Right in front of your faces.

              I've been left to crawl in the dark
          While the faces of those who laughed
                                  Or spat
                        Flutter around me
                     On night-thing wings.

                                 Crawling,
                                  Flailing,
                                    Dying.
                               
                        Razor blade kisses
                        (Or cigarette burns)
                     Lurid hisses of the faces
                                 Threaten
                           But lovely hurts
                               Stop returns
                 To the hideous blackness beneath.