Night Commute

                    Tales   From   A   Stream   

 

Authors

 

 

Skin pale and dry
Staring up at me
Beckoning me

 

Blade glistens and dazzles my eyes
Inching closer
Drawing me in

 

It's touch is cold
The pressure indenting the flesh
Skin yields as the blade is drawn across

 

Blood seeps
And trickles down my arm
It's metallic scent fills my nostrils

 

There is no pain, just relief
Breathing is more determined
For in those moments I feel alive and in control

 

Wiping the blade clean
I return it to it's special place

My blood now congealed into beads where once it flowed
I keep it there to remind me

Just the one cut today

© September 2006