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I envy those who manage to cut
blood on the floor
more
more.
I envy those who feel the pain
blood spreading stain
again
again.
I envy those whose blood flows free
me, me
let it be me.
Inside the walls the blood
pumps round
carrying pain that makes
no sound.
Using a blade the pain
breaks free
shouting aloud
help me, help me.
People come, they mend
the cut,
stitching broken edges
shut
a cup of tea and sympathy
a pill or two to calm
you down
maybe a hidden sharpness
or frown
but mended for now
you go on your way
the pain exorcised for
another day.
My eyes watch it all
they see, they see
I wish it were me
me, me……..