by Kristine Briese

Today the razor
doesn't hurt enough.
Wrapping myself in darkness,
I creep into the silence
where I keep him.
He knew I would come;
he is ready for me.
He leads me to my
bed of shattered glass
he presses the play button
on my subconscious.
We watch the replay of our
20 year-old performance:
the hidden gifts,
the secret kisses,
the forbidden thrusts.
When it is over he
turns to me and
smiles, tells me
I look like my mother.
I rise, torn and bleeding,
and creep back into the world,
properly punished.


Author's Note: Repost, after my traumatic mis-click.

Posted on 12/22/2002
Copyright © 2022 Kristine Briese

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 12/22/02 at 12:44 PM

OUCH! Equally riveting read Kris second time around. Kudos for the brutal honesty.

Posted by Don Coffman on 09/01/03 at 08:45 AM

Quite intense and intresting, bold of you to share, it's much admired.

Posted by Ginette T Belle on 12/10/03 at 09:39 PM

god, that's quite profound...amazing

Posted by Laura Doom on 06/01/07 at 06:29 PM

...and forces the world deeper inside. "I creep back into the world"...within.

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