Reya Suri | + Follow Poet |
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A Knife Through My Hole

…
You advance by the step, destined to accelerate my heartbeat; I have a tendency to feign nonchalant despite my rapid, unsteady breathing.
Petrification courses through me as you stop, millimeters in front of me; shockingly, your touch is quite gentle as you tilt my chin upwards, I notice your grin.
It seems as if you want me to notice your sadistic expression, and in a swift motion you grab the knife I have. 
I’m still staring intensely at your smug expression, though I don’t need to see it- I feel it;
…
My stomach has been penetrated- I look down, shaking, and see the knife in, the one you took from me; I drop on my knees while coughing out blood, as I feel my insides out. But when I look back up, you’ve already left, so I attempt to retrieve the warm, sticky, blood spilling out of me.
I know what’s necessary- I crawl across the floor, dizziness possessing my head- my hands tremble as I struggle to open the lid. 
I choke as the iron tablets erupt in my throat; accepting my fate, and closing my eyes; Though I’ve been fixed, It won’t be the same. 
…
When awoken, my eyes scan the room but narrow at you; there you are, hovering over me; Your idiotic expression courses rage through me as my fear inflicted being screams words like “sadist” and “freak.”
It possesses my every vein until I feel them burst- you’ve stabbed me again…
Though it doesn’t stop there- you proceed to bring the knife down, each stab harder than the last, until eventually you’ve carved a hole through me.
But when you stab me again, you stab me through the hole; it doesn’t hurt anymore. 
…
You pulverized me to the point in which it doesn’t hurt anymore.
…
The first time I felt nothing but guilt, rage, panic, fear, and sadness. Though when I was hurt repeatedly, the pain stopped- as you were stabbing nothing but an infinite void in me. I’m not a masochist- the reason of writing this piece was simply to express the following-
The more you get hurt, the less pain you feel. You’ll remain null, and even when healed, you’ll never be the same again; you may be over it, you may be unable to feel pain- though in your head those memories will forever reign. 
[ p a i n . ]

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