A single cut from my bony wrist--
    up towards my darkened elbow

It's amazing how blood slowly seeps through--
    staining its path a rich crimson hue

A gentle throb before a numbing ache--
    much like before, it's always the same

Shallow wounds are, dare I say--
     nothing more than teasing temptresses of our world today

Blood seeps through, staining its path--
     much like our influence--as we ignore nature's wrath

It's amazing how I still manage to contemplate--
     while ignoring how the cut has become increasingly irate

Shallow wounds

     Shallow wounds

          Shallow wounds.

I really don't understand the sight--
     It just isn't for me--try as I might

Then again, this isn't something I necessarily hate--
     but it surely isn't something I'll try again after this day

Shallow wounds

     Shallow wounds

          Shallow wounds.

Care to give it a try?

   It might not have done it for me--

      but I know it's sure to satisfy.