Bloody Kisses

I contemplate the blade,
thinking about its
smooth surface,
how easily it would cause pain.
The clock slowly ticks,
drawing closer to the climax,
twelve oh oh.
The time when magic happens,
my own secret time of night.
I put the blade to my wrist,
and think where I should cut first.
It is a carefully planned
suicide.
As I slowly draw the knifes smooth course,
midnight escapes with ticks,
and the magic will be gone;
my sweet serendipity of pain.
The blood flows freely now,
from numerous slices,
while I seal them off with
woozy kisses.
I spiral down into my
own blackness my own
cavern of treasures.
A place I go quite often,
an escape from life,
an escape from pain.
My own bloody elegance,
in blackness.