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What to feel?
Nothing.

What to see?
Nothing

What to do?
Nothing.

A Week Away From My Healing Lord.

Mad eagerness to dwell over it. The blade.
Lurks in my brain. My veins. Inside.

I hesitate.
Already sacrificing inside.
Grasping for breath.
To forget it.
But my desire to give in is much stronger.

Feet away it stares back at me.
My hand is reaching out.
But I'm still fighting, screaming inside.

Don't. Please.

My arm hangs. Unable to move.
Dripping blood.

It is deep. Beautiful.
Much more than the usual.
It is revenge for trying to give up this addiction.

Carved so deep I can see my flesh.
Barely feeling it.
Nearly smelling it.

I am benumbed.

It has drenched in my soul.
Stolen my body.
My life.