Slinking
down the mile long hallway,
My fingers itch…
scraping against the outside
of my thigh.
Old scars ache to be re-opened.
The scent in the air
is ripe and my lips
taste of copper pennies.
I walk past the hall light and
into the bedroom
past the shadows breathing in the corner.
They scream my name,
calling me
the only thing I will answer to.
The keening
in my ear
makes my eyes blind.
But
for the silver glint
no one notices but me.
The palms of my hands
b.u.r.n.
impatient for
cold steel,
razor love –
Unimagined joy to spill
my life
down the slick marble,
painting pictures
of diseased lifestyle
and sick addictions,
watching the magic
seep from my opened veins.
But instead,
it slips from my grasp, into the bin.
No longer a necessity.
In a list
A contest entry
- Kill me with the last line. by Loki.
1750 points, ended July 25, 2008, 14 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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wow i really really liked this poem, but as I've noticed with a few toher poems in this contest, its not exactly inspirational, stay strong. However, beucase at the end the writer throws the blade away i think it fits
i realy liked this, but not exaclty what i wanted
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oooohh..
..I see you've following me around! l.o.l. j.k. this is very dark and very good! lots of luck in the contest my friend!
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This is beautiful, and a vivid image is created with your words. Hopeful. Best of luck Bean, not that you need luck when you have such talent.
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Great write! Thanks for the entry and good luck!
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