my inner demons are put to rest
and I'm shoveling away as I plan to bury them
they scurry and claw up my throat with
senseless last words
best left unheard

a razor blade in my hand
that brought blood to my thighs
when there should have been tears in my eyes

locks of hair that
I sawed off along with my weathered pride
vibrant red, along with shades of brown
smelling of stale cigarettes

the blade will speak on my skin no more
my hair will grow as spring creeps upon us
and the flowers bloom

here is where I bury my regrets,
among the butts of countless cigarettes