The Knot of Death

It comes with Guilt,
And self loathing,
A tight knot in
My stomach,
The only way,
To make it leave,
Is to take a knife,
And cut it.

So many scars,
On my arm,
It seems like I’m doing nothing wrong,
Eventually…
I call it my relief,
Since cutting
Gets rid of my grief,
But it always comes back for
More,
This causes my arms,
More sores…

One day it got
Out of hand,
The knot wouldn’t leave,
On my command,

I had to cut deeper,
Then I ever did before,
But for some reason,
My body cried for more.
The knot was not gone,
So I was not done,
Slicing away blinding…
I grinned when finally,
It was gone.

But my arm was red,
Covered in blood,
And I heard a sickening
Thud…
As I fell to the floor,
Someone screamed, “Suicide!”
And I grinned once more.

No, not suicide,
Just pain and relief,
I didn’t mean for my life,
To pay for my grief…

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I wrote this... about and for someone I hold dear.... Blah!