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The razor,
it slashes
across my body,
thin lines ooze
as your hand whips
back
and
forth
deeper.
Stabbing into me,
you work it well,
a familiar task.
my body
sags to the ground,
I am beaten
blow after blow
crying,
whimpering,
begging
myself
to stop.
© Jason L. Yearick, Four-Calendar Café “’My ‘self-centered’ life” and all content contained within [2012 – 2022]. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jason L. Yearick and Four-Calendar Café “’My ‘self-centered’ Life” with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
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