Despair (The Cutter’s Tale)

Despair.
It washes over me,
sweeps my feet from under me,
and leaves me sinking within it.
My body shakes. My skin tingles.
I struggle to the surface, but the moment I’m close,
another wave hits,
and I’m falling again.

As I sink, I wonder why
I’m drowning.
My feet hit the bottom of the ocean,
and I realize I will die here,
in the belly of this hate.

Then a Siren.
She sings to me a lullaby,
and places in my palm,
a blade I had forgotten.

I close my eyes and bask in
the sudden comfort.

It dawns on me then.

I hold the blade upright between my fingers,
I breathe in and press it
against my skin.
I count to three,
and let its bite
penetrate my skin.

A sudden electrifying sensation travels through me.
A cold sting,
a soothing fire.
Blood seeps through
and slides down my arm.

And then sunlight. I gasp and breathe in as Despair’s tide begins receeding.
In the air,

endorphins whisper.

(C)Marie Meyers, 2013

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