script

I’m not even angry anymore, simply just resigned

Awashed in a cloud of numbness I can’t define

Nothing can penetrate my paralyzed haze

I’m going through the motions, an existential daze

Unfeeling and empty, my soul’s been excavated

My very being unidentifiable, my whole self mutated

Unrecognizable, who is this person in the mirror?

Every cell in my body is screaming that I should fear her

But still I feel nothing, not even the beating of my heart

Not even the razor to my skin, slicing my skin apart

The coppery tang of blood rises to my senses

But not even the draining of my life perforates my defenses

Sweat drips from my pores invading my open wound

The well of gushing blood not drying up anytime soon

And now it’s created a pink tinged mess

Emanating from the gape in my flesh

I long to break this spell, dismantle this invisible fence

Taking drastic measures to feel something at any expense

If I cut a littler harder, maybe just a little deeper

Will it be intense enough for me to reach her?

Darkness dancing at the corners of my eyes

Mocking me, daring me to even try to rise

Silent whispers echoing too loudly within my head

My limbs have grown too heavy to lift myself out of the bed

The laceration in my wrist, as deep as bone, is staring back at me

An accusing eye watching everything, seeing my face slackening

I finally feel something as my last breath escapes from between my lips

Fear from understanding, it wasn’t my place to write this life ending script

© Chelsie Cummings 2016

Featured Photo found on Flickr.

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