I pushed down.
by Aaron Blair
I was not content with just
raised skin, no matter that
I had charmed it there myself,
tiny pink snakes, with their
twee little hisses. If darling
was a word to use for wounds
that was it, and I, a coward.
I hid a razor in my jewel box,
a diamond to cut me. I was glass.
I'd lift the lid and stare, my
secret piece of metal, and all
the promises that came with it,
brilliant rubies of blood, the
pain, pure as silver and bright.
One day, the bravery came to me,
a black rose blooming, dark and
hot inside my chest. To liberate
the insides, let the skin split,
to bear some useful fruit, time
for that, already, and no more
time for fear. No turning back,
then. Finally, I pushed down.
Author's Note: Writing.com slam poem about a salient moment. Salient meaning to move forward. This is about when I started cutting, which is really one of the few choices I've actually made for myself. The fact that it was a really bad one and it's probably a good thing I don't make more choices is not lost on me.
Posted on 03/12/2004
Copyright © 2023 Aaron Blair
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Christina Butcher on 07/27/06 at 08:51 PM|
i didn't think i would like this poem, i thought it would be a lot more negative and sad. but it didn't seem that way at all and i really did like it. nicely done!!!