I look at the clock.
Midnight on a Tuesday night.
I can't sleep.
I've tried for hours.
All I can do is
Think. and Cry.
It's not working.
I'm still in pain.
I'm walking to my kitchen.
Making sure to be extra careful
around my father's bedroom door.
Open the drawer.
Pull out a knife.
Shiny and silver with teeth.
I put it to my skin.
As I draw it across,
I watch the red lines appear.
Instantly I feel relief.
Like you're lifted from my shoulders
or someone's helping me hold up
the burden that is your hate.
Your hate that you call your love.
You are my knife, but I still love you.
Author notes
Written December 10th, 2005
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Darling i love you too
Kristina -
Very emotional, great write.
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Good stuff
Wow, deep topic. Nicely put together though. If you need someone to just talk to you can IM me.
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