Flashbacks
Flash back to the first time.
When you held the blade,
that cruel piece of metal,
and pressed it to your skin.
Did your heart beat faster?
Did your breath catch in your throat when the first scarlet laceration appeared?
And what about the last time?
when you opened old, worn scars
perhaps still scabbed
hardly healed
and pouring out what you thought were the last of your childish hopes
Were your eyes dull and lifeless
like the rest of your body?
Did you decide as I did
that there was no logic
no reason to the pain?
And bandaged, stitched and swabbed,
did you throw out the stained blade
and learn to
live
again?