Ruthless

written at an unhealthy state of mind

The intensified touch of pain

reaches her finger tips

through the blade of razor.

Cutting her skin,

parting her flesh,

reaching the beauty.

 

Wicked scarlet tears

run down white skin.

The sight of which

brings lust of more.

 

Blades move, cutting

toward still wet palms,

fallowing the readers lines.

 

Reaching down

for now so near wrists.

Red desire spills

from now clenched fist.

 

Razors run parallel

to pulsing veins.

Her hand pushes harder at the blade.

 

The dizziness

now filling her mind.

The razor hits the floor.

 

All is black.

But I’m still here.