Bleed me 'til I cry
Bleed until my emotions dry
Just a cut
Surface, skin
It's how I feel
Without/ within
Just a split
Let them out
These things that crawl
Beneath my flesh
My soul, like tar
Buried deep
Trapped upon their tiny feet
Six by six
Six
Again
Each emotion
Grown legs and given rise
Slipping from my fingered grasp
Crawling, creeping
Across my thighs
High,
And high,
And high
Until this skin
This split, divide
Recedes with time
Feelings ride back,
And back,
And down
As one-by-one
My cells are knit
And once again
It's time
To bleed
To bleed
To bleed me dry.
*I've never been a cutter, but this is how I imagine it would feel for me.
"I say, for me, Art definitely imitates life."
~Meghan Carbary, 2019. Quote after writing Cutter, after having accidentally sliced her finger in the lunch room at work, while doing other people's dishes.