Alone,
I fit inside the glass before me.
The poison, the liquid
numbing me.
The room closes in
or perhaps I am getting bigger.
Bigger than the cancerous pain
that grows within my very marrow.
The poison giving me
the impression
that I am able to overcome
and feel love again
or for the first time...
whichever the case may be.
The rusted edges
of this blade
writhe against my flesh
and through tear streaked eyes
I wonder if the rust is rust
or blood
from the last encounter.
The poison leaks
out of me...
razor blade love
the only love I have
access denied to everything else.
Why am I sitting here
telling you?
Who else would I tell?
Should I be angry that you
intrude on my thoughts
or grateful that you
care enough to read?
Or perhaps I should just laugh
and drink and cut
to wake up to the
lonely bleeding heart
I have become.
~Kory~
6/20/07