I stare at the veins so prominent on my wrists –
think of the sea of blood rushing through my body with lots of twists.
The cold metal blade I am twirling in my hand
screams to be used to cut open and release the ocean of red – I don’t quite understand
why I want to bleed out and become a sinking ship or consent myself to die.
This desolation has me wrapped around its finger and the monster of destruction I must abide by.