Replay Poem by Heart of Ice Die Die Die

An image
replaying
again and again.
The knife,
in a wild movement
comes down,
across my white, white legs
pale from the lack of love,
and slash a long red line across it.
Sweet, warm blood
drips down my legs
and on to the floor.
My head tipped back,
eyes closed gently
with fat, clear tears rolling down
my pale, freckled face.
Eyelashed thick with them.
Again and again I see this.
And I want it so bad,
but the knife will no t yeild
the same bitter twang it used to.
I still see it.



Oct.-6-09 10: 05-10-11 p.m.