Razorblade Kiss (attempt #2)

do I even have to say it? lol Inspired by H.I.M. not the same as the last one or the third one...

Razorblade Kiss

I am not afraid
of the razor blade.

It is unsettling,
the cool steel grazing my skin-
but I will not give in
to the fear.

Why fear this;
there is inevitability in death.
It is un-nerving to feel
the hot blood pouring down my hand,
but I refuse to fear.
Why bother- in the end,
we all die.

I guess I’m starting to fear
the things I love-
in some cases
because it is the pain itself;
and in some cases
because of how deeply
I’m willing to let it sting.

It’s just a razorblade kiss,
and if it goes French on me,
it will all be over soon.

But some shine of hope says quietly,
ill still be here tomorrow.
Some whisper tells me
that things will get better.
Hell, it can’t get much worse.
It could,
but chances are pointing away
from that particular fate;
I have yet to see.
But there is something held
in better tomorrows for me.

I’m not afraid
of the razor blade.
I’m just shaking in fear
when that blade gets near
my arms while grasped
in my desperate hand.