poetry critical

online poetry workshop



attention whore confessions
yrrockstar

the small sharp kitchen knife
 1
with its white handle in the harsh sunshine
 2
is held in my experienced & steady right hand
 3
 
 
the cool metal against my wrist
 4
making one inch cuts in a row across my veins
 5
as i stand in my thirteen year old room
 6
 
 
the day is sticky like the smooth line of red
 7
against my pale white skin
 8
my eyes wide, i stare at the blood
 9
i never clean or cover with band aids
 10
 
 
i toss the sharp object to my bed,
 11
& it lays among the dolphin sheets
 12
like it does every day
 13
after i find it hidden in my desk drawer
 14
 
 
i lay among these sheets,
 15
falling asleep
 16
 
 
blinking open my eyes
 17
i see my blurry mother
 18
furrowed forehead, concerned eyes
 19
 
 
the blood drains from my face
 20
and is dried on my wrist
 21
my eyes move from my mother
 22
to the knife
 23
to my wrist
 24
and back again to rest on her.
 25

"childlike mistakes of a summer day" revised

24 Apr 07


(define the words in this poem)
(28 more poems by this author)



Add A Comment:
Enter the following text to post as unknown: captcha

Comments:

delete 1-11 and you'll have a much better poem
 — unknown

0.215s