I enjoy the feeling of pinprick needles picking and poking at my skin
The sly feeling of hiding my needles in a candle jar in a less used drawer,
The holes in my skin that heal quickly, hiding my secrets
Oh how I smile as I dig in deep into my flesh, attempting to, and failing, to make it bleed.
Failing is an awful feeling, so when I tuck away my “sewing needles” I feel a hint of disappointment, that I did not see the flow of red washing over my skin,
prick prick prick
I keep going and going and going
Before I get so frustrated that I unscrew a blade from a sharpener and attempt once more
“failure failure failure”
A voice screams in my head
This blade is no real blade, but simply dulled
And now I have obtained a stinging red mark on my arm,
that will not bleed…
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Author:
RainningHearts (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: April 6th, 2022 11:18
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: jarcher54
Offline)
Comments2
nice piece, I enjoyed the notes of pain, pleasure and frustration,quite deep
Dahlia
Thank you
The last line of this intense little drama is pure genius. I picked this out at random to read...and won the lottery tonight. You need to post one of your last two poems! (-:
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