blades creeping closer, enclosing my throat,

through the incessent pressure I breathe,

continually coping and learning to speak,

I'm a life stolen by fears faithful thief.

On my throat of thinning skin,

lies scars of broken sores and nicks,

piled over with longer slashes,

forming streams of dripping dashes,

a throat of meat and pussy sores,

a strangled voice that speaks no more,

silence sought and silence given,

the fear of knives results submission.