The Silver Sheen

January 14, 2013
My Secret Stream of Consciousness
The shining silver sheen,
Always impossibly, flawlessly clean.
My face reflected,
But never changed or perfected.
I display my stress through my tears,
And ignore the words of my peers.
My entire body is already numb,
And the music in my ears play an anthem.
I grip the handle of my release,
And give my wrist a gentle tease.
The burning pain of breaking through skin,
Draws my mouth into a devious grin.
My secret escape from daily strife,
Comes only from the sweet, sultry pain…
Of a knife.

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