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.