Short Poems

Cigarettes & Cuts 2-25-2020

The taste upon your lips,

The smell upon my hair,

Has left me addicted to cigarettes in a different way.

Craving to be in your arms again,

Has left me in devastation as I look for a new fix.

If I can't find the love I've allowed myself to need and rely on,

Than I'll just allow the blade to make love to the pale precious skin upon my thighs,

Maybe it is better to be in love with the sensation of the blade tearing my skin to shreds.

Light trickles of blood streaming down my legs as the cuts get deeper than before.

But maybe it isn't?

Maybe it isn't better to love the way my leg feels after the cuts stop bleeding.

Maybe it isn't great,

Because after awhile,

I'm only left with scars.

Scars that show how weak I truly am.