Rob Levasseur Poet Free verse

I Bled Here

I take the words
-razor blades really-
mull them over
until my fingers drip
scarlet red blood
singularly
onto the keyboard
imminent short-circuit.

Slippery and sticky
my fingers peck
each letter
the spacebar.
Deep cuts aching
lacerations obvious
attract attention from
curious passerby
do not worry friend
I have paper towels
and if necessary
a towel.

These words ooze
from my wound
purposefully
with intention
and I repair this
damage wiping
concave keys
clean of any hint
I ever bled here.

(click the pic for a preview of my upcoming book!)

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Lady Labyrinth December 26, 2020 at 2:33 PM if you cut your fingertips, does that mean you have already successfully cut out your tongue? Or if one cuts their fingertips, does one do that as a means to stop one cutting out one's tongue? What does one do when the fingertip cutting and tongue cutting is complete? Does one use the blood as ink to inscribe on the mirror in front of them, think harder...stop thinking. Rob Levasseur December 27, 2020 at 7:54 AM The razors blades analogous to the painful thoughts that bleed in my mind and so drip onto the page as if from my fingertips; that the words are my pain bleeding onto the page. Not sure I accomplished what I wanted to with this piece. Perhaps I should revise it one day.