But I'm a Coward and didn't Cut

The rush of the water

Flows and overruns

The edge of my sockets.

And I bend down

Wanting to massage the ache of my shoulders

That never goes away.

Feelings boil

Erupting until there was nothing but molted rocks.

The lingering claws of the

Monster snatches and snips

The rim of my heart and brain and fingers and holds on until

I can't stand it anymore.

Deteriorating so deep,

Sinking in a dark haze,

I can't breath.

Chains dragging me down,

I struggle to reach for the moon

Knife and feel the smooth cut

Of the handle and I wonder wonder wonder wonder

How it would feel to stain the moon red.