Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Cut.

Swirling and spinning
violent circles chasing wildly through my mind.
It’s a full body assault,
nervous agitation banging itself into the walls.
It is discomfort, distaste
the dissonant sound of an ache.
It is discord,  division,
the dichotomy of pain.
I can’t focus, can’t hear
cannot see or feel.
I can’t think, can’t reason,
cannot settle myself.
There is a desperation in me
in this need for something now.
I need some comfort, need release
 need to set this caged thing free.
One cut, one tear,
the fascination distracts.
One rip, one shred, one drag across skin
one door to let it out.
I am trapped, like a wild thing,
within the walls of myself.
I am writhing , and twisting
with this frenzied need.
There is nothing to free me
from the skin in which I’m bound.
There is nothing sharp enough
to set this need free.

1 comment:

  1. The desperation comes through in the fast pace of your lines ( no pun intended). Hope you are well.