Cutting...
I remember cutting with you.
You always cut deeper than I did.
You always licked the blood off of my chest, off of my arms, off of my legs.
I wondered what was wrong with you, but that was why I loved you.
You liked being cut...
"Oh, God yes!" was the reply you gave me when I asked if I could cut for you.
A sour, yet sweet relationship...
Oh, so sweet.
They always thought us to be weird, even before they saw the scars slashing across our bodies.
Even before they saw us half naked in a bathroom stall, cutting on each other's bodies.
Oh, your sweet blood, dripping into my mouth, mixed with sweat.
Getting in our eyes as we kissed each other.
Lying on the dirty tiles, gasping for breath, convulsing in a puddle of our own mixed blood.
Those are my sweetest memories of you.
Our bodies slick with sweat and blood, sliding together, wrapped up together.
Yes, we were truly together.
The loss of blood never bothered us.
Until it killed us. |