it was sunday
your were brushing your teeth
your words echoed in my ears
and i knew them to be gods honest truth
i'm a jerk
i'm a loser
i'm a liar
i'm horrible
i had thought that
once again
i had broken free of my
...
but i hadnt
for as my shoulders and back shook
with suppressed sobs
a burning hatred filled me
and my arms began to lust
therell be blood tonight!
even cleaning the blade
my one ritual
my touchstone of sanity
fell from my mind
i was angry
and i was going to do some violence
i stood in the closet
near the door so i could hear your toothbrush back and forth
but concealed in case you came through the door unexpected
open
click
admire the blade for a moment
put the blunt back of the blade against my thumb
and...
three slashes
stop
i stare at the comely red line
as not merely drops
but a smear of blood
wells up like tears
and dances
dark and shimmering
on my broken skin
it does not hurt
it feels lovely
so lovely
lovely
lovely
love
i am in love
oh god
what will she say when she finds out?
of course she finds out
i will tell her of course
god
why did i do this?
not again
it wasnt supposed to be like this
i was supposed to be healthy again
- the blood continues to flow -
i
this cant go on
i must be stopped
this is too much
i give up
i close my knife and slip it into my pocket
go to the door and turn the handle
you are finishing brushing your teeth
i wait for the spitting and the rinsing
"mom" i say
and grab your forearm
pulling you down the hall to the living room
"i need to talk to you about something"
ten minutes later
shaking so so hard i can hardly speak
and breathing ragged gasps
i toss my leatherman micra on the carpet
and lower my arm from its folded position
revealing the cut
and all the cheery blood
"i cut myself"