16
little
lines.

8 that bled
8 that disappointed

Cutting is bad. Self-harm is pain. Bottling is pointless.
Cutting is pain. Self-harm is pointless. Bottling is effective.
Cutting is pointless. Self-harm is effective. Bottling isn't' working.
Cutting is effective. Self-harm isn't working. Bottling was fuel.
Cutting isn't working. Self-harm was fuel.
Cutting was fuel. Self-harm is empty.
Suicide is.

Where am I?
How many lines until the end?

...unaware of gathering darkness.



(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCL)


If nightfall wore the softest slippers whence
Twas silent in approach, I could not hail
It on that note, as was the case, light pale
All day til others blinked on in suspense
None felt in all in our haste to be from hence
Wherever as lo, darkness seals the tale
Of aught we'd erstwhile known whileas t'avail
I finish warming soup in sheer defense.
But dinner's late.  Cuz we'll have pizza too.
Thus, biscuits/rolls rise to th'occasion, poor
As hot food going cold in Winter's tour
Of bitter duty.  We put off th'ado
Called dinner til that night is black.  Then stir
Ourselves to eat, and pepperoni'd cue.

17Jan19b