Nightvigil Stories

Just one stroke One stroke and its all over.. . Moonbeams dancing on the blade Taunting...mocking me... Inner self beating the walls of her sanctum Berating me..traitor...coward Cold steel against my flesh...harder..harder still Prick of pain that curdles my insides... Then the blood...darker than the milky chocolate of my skin...darker than the pitchblackness that surrounds me A drop..two..chasing each other down my magled wrist Just one cut and it will be over soon... What a joke... Culmination of my bad decisions in one dumb move A distant bell tolls midnight...cricket song fades to a deafening hush...silence... Unwavering Unchanging A pregnant pause in a world of sound Like a collectively held breath. But the battle lines have been drawn War already lost and won... I cant do it...cant watch it all fade to a deeper darkness never to return... The bell strikes again...moonbeams and sunbeams fight for dominance over the sky as dawn approaches Light spreads the blanket of dark to illuminate my shame... A scraggly line that barely pierces the surface Natures little helpers already at work stitching it closed again Even then...the mild throb is a painful reminder Inner self has calmed down..folded herself into a ball and gone to sleep I look down at my wrist again Wipe away the caking blood to see the criss cross of failed attempts silvered by time Another night gone by...