Razor to Scar

When I see my razor
I think of pain and blood
I see the scar forming on my body
I place my fingers around the handle
I grip it so tight my fingers go white
I spot my place to cut
A place that has nothing...
And now it’s a blanket canvas
I place the razor sideways on my skin
I push hard down on the razor
My blank canvas goes white
I run the razor back in forth on my canvas
I can feel the sting of metal meeting blood
The cherry red blood runs down my body
My canvas is now red
I seal my canvas with a bandage
I rinse my razor...
And place it back on the counter
My canvas is now a scar
That reminds me of that day every time my eyes glance to work of art on my body
The razor can be thrown away but the scar remains...
FOREVER!