Blood and sand

I want to tear the flesh from my bones.
See what a pretty colour
Mottled red and purple and brown
Bruises
My body’s love song.

I die inside.
When I hurt I feel alive.

I know pain sharp as a dagger caressing my neck.
What patterns the knife makes.
A true work of art

So unlike groping for meaning through these silly words.

I bleed, the desert refreshed
The desert of my mind
The sand of thoughts
Bones crumble to dust.

No blood flows.
I drop the knife and know insanity