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A scar named guilt. 3/1/04
The razor felt unreal against my skin
It had been so long I didn’t know where to begin
Slowly I discovered myself and I began to slice the guilt like lemons
Like citric acid, new blood burns
How could I help myself?
The further I went the better I felt.
I was a rose that had been left to wilt
Sensations arose from my flesh that screamed “life!”
After months of starvation I was granted with water to quench my thirst; to soak my petals with the taste of metal
How delightfully the pain masks my sorrow!
And who am I to wait for tomorrow?
Yes, I hurt myself today
But with the hurt, the scars too will fade.
