Home » Poems » Mathew Sturgeon » The Razor

The Razor

The razor in my hand Easily is sinking in, Going deeper and deeper, Slicing through my skin. As my body begins to open, My blood begins to flow, It's running out of me, A puddle starts to grow. The pain, it is intense, It's making me want to rush. Finally, there's the artery, The blood begins to gush. The job's done, I'm waiting For my life to leave. Never again will I Be made to grieve.

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Susan Ashley

Date: 3/23/2025 9:06:00 AM

Dear Mathew, your poem is a harrowing portrait of desperation and grief. This strikes me in a visceral, soulful way, a captivating piece. "The razor in my hand" is a magnetic first line, it captured me and the verses that followed never let me go. A haunting piece that will linger on my mind. Congratulations for your success in Sara's contest. Warmest wishes.. ~Susan

Mathew Sturgeon
Date: 3/23/2025 2:49:00 PM

Thank you so much for your comment. I'm glad that I was able to captivate you as a reader and that you enjoyed it. Warm wishes to you as well my friend.