Glitter

Glitter
By Tyler Beacker

I looked at the knife that stood poised in my hand
And then at my exposed wrist
I noticed how the cuts could run
Like so many slits in a sheet of paper
No glitter,
Just Elmer's glue,
Pouring from the lacerations
And onto the canvas,
Glue running like blood, pouring from the cuts in the paper
The paper that was patched together like so many squares in a quilt

         The stitches were haphazardly placed,
And coming away at the edges
                   And It would probably be better if the quilt were burned
In a pyre
Cleansed by the purifying flames
         Or diced by a pair of scissors
         I laughed as the cloth fell to the earth
Oozing puffs of cotton
                   That kept the quilt inflated

I watched the blood drip on the canvas
                             That housed my growing insanity
I felt it creeping
                                                           In a voice that was so like my own
But desperate
         Desperate now that I WAS ALONE
         I had left my guard down
                                       and now I would pay...
         The knife was poised,
                   and so many tears streamed down my face
and onto the canvas
                                                 Just as the blood would,
with one clean swipe of the knife,
                                                 One snip of the scissors,
                                                 One match to begin the cleansing flames
                   
                   A sob caught in my throat
         I threw the knife,
         Noticing how it glimmered
                             In the light cast by the streetlamps
         I picked up what was left of my sanity,
and blocked out the voices,
No glue, no cotton.
Just glitter