...I just like writing that way. Anyway, here's two of my latest. The first I'm going to have published in this year's Trillium when they call for entries... I don't know about the second though.

ARTISTRY

Take my clothes away,
strip me down to nothing
see my scars, see my bruises
This is what life has done to me
The black and blue cross with the red,
the red angry lines that rise from my skin.
Patches, blotches, slashes, cuts.
This is my own self-infliction,
my own artistry upon my body.
My designs, upon a template well-known.
Blade and fist are my tools,
easily welded, easy to use
I go by feeling, by emotions.
Eyes closed, my hand guides itself.
No paint-by-numbers needed here
Completion only upon my death
One last blow, one final cut
upon this abused, bruised canvas
A fatal, fulfilling, satisfying finish
Understood by none, seen by all
Meaningful to only one.

UNTITLED

I bare myself before you,
Lie naked on the floor
What is it you crave from me?
What is it you desire?
I ask all in vain
I know your response all too well
You desire only my destruction,
My imminent demise
In your eyes I am only a target,
Your weapon of choice a razor,
Sharpened beyond belief.
You lean close and whisper
Kind, loving words in my ear
As your hand moves across my chest,
Mutilating my body, crossing lines
Making designs of your own
Your lips brush my own and I
Remember when we first kissed
Now the memory becomes tinged
With the lines of pain across my breast
I keep silent, the pain clouding my mind
I want to force you to stop, to quit,
But I cannot find my voice.
Inside I am calling out to you, to anyone
All for naught in the end
Your hand sweeps lower moving
Over my waist, my legs, my most intimate place
Back floods the times we made love,
How our bodies molded together as one
And you loved me passionately, tenderly
You stab, and I choke back my cries,
Looking into your eyes and seeing
A hate-filled rage in your brown orbs
Instead of the love you once felt for me
“Love me no more,” you whisper tenderly
As you slash the blade across my throat
And I am left to choke on my own life force.
You stand, and wipe your hands,
Tossing away the razor nonchalantly.
You kick me once, twice, thrice,
But I no longer respond to you
And my world fades to black.