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.
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.