Saturday, May 15, 2010


so distinctive
taste, texture, look or smell
and so different in its stages
red to brown, the brightness fades
reverses, from a thick
smell of copper, to salt, and decay -
even a decade later, on the paper,
the smell remains
preserved, a way
to completely transcend time.
i'm back again: young
scared, a whole lot crazy,
equipped with razors
and an inability to cope -
it all projects sadness,
i should feel that -
but instead:
half of me
turns out the remaining lights,
slips her hand
into her wallet
pulls out a razor,
rests it against wrist,
do it.
do it again.
more blood.

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