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Description
It starts with a slit,
a simple clean cut,
and then more and more
richer, more beautiful
than the first appear.
With knife to skin,
I reveal what God has made
under meaningless flesh,
under insecurity,
under what I am not.
So the syrup-like blood
seeps forth faster and faster
from a wrist whose body
and soul is damned
by the eyes of its Creator.
So I know what I am
and seek retribution,
but I with my Father find none,
yet blood and pain have no weight
on the merchant scale of guilt,
this guilt in apprehension
that I may be
damned either way.