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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Personal · #906267
Light isn't always good.
Drawn to the light in the dark;
A silver painted blade calling my name.
Unmoving in its constant beckon
As light peeks through my window-
No match for the darkness that lies within-
Darkness to hide the tears and silver blade.
With a shaking hand I reach out.
Frozen fingers meet lifeless steel.
The tip tickles my wrist
As it lightly dances over my vein,
As gently as a Lover's caress.
Creating waves of emotion that overwhelm
Any reason I could have grasped in the darkness.
Dominating my hand.
Silver point meets supple finger,
Drops of crimson speckle the wood desk.
Steady rhythm of life flowing out of me
Manipulating the knife, silver bounces off the walls.
Silent tears corrupt pure crimson.
Taunted by words on the page before me-
Words of caring and sweet nothings.
Words I'll never hear-
Words I'll never feel.
Silver trickster of a glimmer of hope
Stealing the life that I freely give.

© Copyright 2004 Doom Kitty (shasha at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/906267-Light-in-the-Dark