Wondering

poetry on skin

One day;
she could not express
her feelings on paper anymore.
The pages could not handle her poetry.

So her pen became a blade
and her skin was her new diary.

Her veins started to speak,
words dropped out of her wrists
and the red lines stayed
like written paragraphs.

She wrote her feelings on her skin
to finally not feel anything at all.

And as her arms got red
her eyes turned empty.
And as her pages stayed empty
her soul got numb.

- poetry on skin