Slices

taking the razorblade

one slice to the hip....

watching the blood flow

so freely from the wound

nothing....

no pain nothing not even a sting

two slices to the hip....

even more blood flows freely

still nothing

three slices to the hip....

yet more blood

a trail starting down the leg

still nothing not even barely a stingy feeling

four slices to the hip......

the scent of blood so heavy in the air

the hungar rises

but still no feeling it

one slice to the other hip.....

a faint stinging now

blood so dark and rich

two slices to the other hip.....

the pain suddenly hits

as freely as the blood flows

the tears fall

looking down at the blood

so dark and yet flows so freely

laughing at the irony

five slices just to be able to feel

just to feel anything at all

getting dressed

and yet no one notices

the slices made just to numb

the pain of the heart.....