My body is a canvas for your painting

A painful art session that I somehow weirdly enjoy.

Seeing the gory scenes we make yet appreciating it

The beautiful pattern the blood forms when it drips

Fresh cuts

Red wrists

Except we don’t touch the wrist

How cliche is that?

You like to spice things up

Let’s just cut a little. We won’t make it deep so it heals faster and the scars fade faster.

So  day 1; I bring the blade out from the side of the sheets if the book i had it in

I feel it against my skin ; it’s cold

Day 2; I “trip” from my bed

Day 3; I accidentally burn myself in the kitchen

Everyone leaves but you


I try to escape you

I try to find redemption

Not everyone can be saved

At least not immediately

So I go on

Trying each day to find my escape route

You make me afraid of my solitude.

You creep in when I’m having a quiet time with my thoughts and take absolute control of it.

Your voice so loud, it consumes everything in its path

So everything else is blocked out.


Time after time

I succumb

When it’s all done

And I look in the mirror

I don’t see my reflection

I see you

Smiling with satisfaction

You won tonight.

But I will keep trying

Till I win

Maybe not tonight

But I will win


2 thoughts on “I

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s