A Fresh Page
Shhh,
its ok
scream if you need to
I’m doing this
because I want to (need to),
do what you feel,
its just a release.
We all have…
things…
we have to run through,
if its not experienced
we can’t learn,
like if I cut this
you can’t voice yourself
and we can’t have that,
I need to hear
every chortling howl of yours,
my ears cry for it,
grabbing at every last tone.
I cut with my curved blade,
lightly,
just enough to pierce the skin
along the rib cage
and slide my steel under it
feeling your muscles contract
as if trying to run from the dagger
that’s peeling away the epidermis.
Nice slow, long strokes,
the piece need to be big,
I have a lot to write
on this leathery
section of parchment
and its best
when I can fit everything on one piece.
I leave the whimpering carcass behind,
if I don’t dry this right
it’ll wrinkle,
devastating its smooth surface.
Puncturing holes in its edge
I tie it to a drying frame,
tight and secure
like my grip on your throat
when I found you cowering,
hiding as if that would work.
Snatching up a smaller knife
I delicately
carve my verses within,
as it dries
they’ll open to reveal
what pours from my mind,
spreading my whims and ambitions.
I use the salty tears
of my victims
to tan and preserve
my epitaph for the world,
the irony is
I’m making useless prattle
into something priceless.
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