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Razor Blade Warmth
The sharp ~ fatal emotion,
That causes pain and bliss,
Can easily be conquered,
By a razor blade kiss.
It's something that I'd die for,
It's something that I need,
There's a certain satisfaction,
In watching myself bleed.
Breathing self-provided insults,
And Drowning in my pain,
Comforting my addiction,
As I cut across my vein.
The blood gives me assurance,
And let's me know that I am real,
Until my Razor Blade Warmth,
Is the only thing I feel.
GALD YOU WROTE IT
I LIKED IT
this is a wicked poem..
with great structure and rhythm..
its wonderfully dark.
..makes me wanna cut.
but id much rather feel warm and fuzzy chemicals
than your razor blade warmth.
addiction is a bitch. cant live with it...cant live without it.
keep writing, preciosa..
please do not cut too deep.
There's a darkness to your work that intrigues me. This piece in particular shows your hardened spirit.