Sometimes the hardest thing is daring to begin again…
To start things off right I am opening with a poem I once wrote. To anyone reading, comments and critiques are always welcome. I feel a poem is not complete until it has been sliced into nothingness and regenerated from the blood of the work.
Lower Rib Cage
I am a cutter.
The man is a blade.
Every time my world
begins to spin backwards,
my toes no longer cling
to the edge
of the cliff.
I know I cannot control
breath as it escapes from my body
I find him there,
waiting.
He wants me
to drag him across my bare flesh
like the sharp metallic heaven.
I can feel the ruby red core
slowly begin to surface,
first gradually
then with a sudden push forward.
Its not about
passion, love, pain, sex, pleasure.
Its about the moment when all merge into one,
house themselves in
my lower rib cage.
I love you, sweety. You have always inspired me more than anyone else I know and I just feel like a slacker as a friend. I wish we lived closer so that our lives could actually interact more. I can’t wait til I am done with school and we will run away to Colorado.