t's like reaching into your pocket
and feeling nothing but air
the panic that hurtles through your veins
until you find it
you grasp it
the cold pointed metal
relief is overwhelming
nothing is as important
as when it bites into your palm
bites harder than anything
and the sting echoes through you
it's inside of you
the pain is inside
radiating from that sacred
piece of pointed metal
you cut it from your dads shaver
the blood is warm and comforting
it caress' your hand
the relief ends
and you fade back into invisibility
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem