With anger so hot,
Come visions of red.
Silver feels so cool,
Against her fevered skin.
The sight of the blade,
Begets a sigh and a smile.
Relief at long last,
No more of this denial.
Anticipation courses through her veins,
Flushing her cheeks,
Pumping her heart faster.
All the while knowing,
She's speeding toward disaster.
Dragging the blade along her arm,
Raising scarlet drops,
To be the evidence of her harm.
As the silver slashes her skin,
She wears a wicked grin.
Now that the damage is done,
She curls up on her bed.
Able to sleep soundly once again. |