Cuts

For the Self Injury contest

One moment, so wonderful, so lovely, so fleeting.

Tears fall, the stimuli forgotten or repressed.

Nothing is right, everything is wrong.

You’ve been born backwards with your head

Facing the wrong way, looking up when it should look down.

Scream, scream, hit the wall, it’s never enough,

Time stops, fast forward, sitting on the cold, hard bathroom tiles,

Smell of pee and shampoo, combined with the taste of tears,

Zippo box full of loose blades, cut from Venus razors

you once used to shave your legs.

It stings at first, keep pressing, cut down.

Slow cuts, deep, precise.

The deeper it is, the better it feels.

The tightness in your chest grows slack,

What a relief, what a relief.

The sight of blood is beautiful.

Walk to the window and lean outside.

Watch the blood drip down, light a cigarette.

And in the hazy orange lights of the streetlamps,

the shadows of pedestrians become giants.

Reviews

[Calypso]

Well done! Congrats on winning!