Cut Bone

-Cut Bone-
by
Keaton Foster



Cut bone
Deeper still
Let the blood spill
Cut into your soul
To the core
Of who you are
Feel each slice
The intoxicating knife
Sharp on one edge
Will only cut if you go
Not if it’s removed
Once you start
Dare not stop
Commitment is God
Resentment, have none
You are doing the right thing
Of course what is right
Is not so easily defined
What is wrong stands
As a monument to our kind
A kind that you
Are certainly a part of
Being born is what you did
The start of your existence
That must come to an end
This is not about death
Not about suicide
That would be too easy
This is about something
Far more concerning
This is about escapism
Through a decision
To drive a blade
Through your skin
Through your meat
Through your bone
Into your very soul
Only then
Only at such a depth
Will you truly know
What it means to feel
What it means for things to be real
And not some charade of words
Written by someone clearly absurd
A man suffering from his own
Self-afflicted wounds
A man that spills his blood
Upon the page so that others
May find a way to understand
To feel the agony of his pain
And the weight of the shame
That he has become burdened with
Cut bone
Deeper still
Let the blood spill
Cut into your soul
To the core
Of who you are
In that instant
When life floods free
Feelings of doubt cease
You will see
You will know
Such a lesson you will
Never be able to forget
Only then, so close to the end
Can you truly begin to live
These are of course just words
A painted picture expressed
From the mind of a man
Wielding his own blade
Cutting just as deep
Cut bone
Find home
Know life
By seeing into death
Only then will you be free
Only then will you feel
All that is real…


Cut Bone
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2012.