The Knife
I slowly slide the knife
Across my forearm
And watch as the blood
Begins to surface
And it runs down my arm
To drip on the pale tile
Of my bathroom floor
It's like my pain
Is flowing out of me
And pooling at my feet
Where I can wipe it away
And throw it out
And forget about it
Until something else
Causes the pain
The memories
To surface once again
And then
the knife
Is back on my forearm
