Poem #1

Dragging the blade across my skin

A thick muddle of thoughts with no results

No blood

Just the widening gap of bright red flesh

Over and over, again and again

The blade seemingly duller with each passing stroke

Wanting them to see clearly

While my sight grows blurred in an alcoholic fog

Shaggy blue carpet between bed and dresser

Flowered walls laughing at my tearful face

Knife gripped in a sleeping fist

The blade too dull to cut.