Cleansing

(trying to recreate my previous blog so I'm just moving the poems from there to here, hope it's not too confusing...)
October '07

The knife lies still on my hand
No trembling no shaking no nerve
The blood smells fresh from the veins
The flesh is ready to serve

The sorrow seeps out of my body
As relief takes its place
The picture no longer in mind
The man no longer with face

The tears that stain my cheeks
No longer feel like my own
The burden is leaving forever
Not needing to act like I’m grown

The cuts are small and petite
Resembling my very own features
The number of them is impressive
Hundreds of bright little red creatures

The major cut in the chest
Will leave forever a gaping hole
The place where my heart once resided
Emptiness now its number one goal

The pretty has fallen behind
Having found nothing useful to do
My hand is steady and calm
As it cleanses itself from you

© 2007