I will not bleed for you
You are but a scratch
On my inner thigh.
A wound no longer deep
Once carved in sorrow
Scarred edges
Stretching over time
Into smooth white lines
I barely feel you anymore
Only when I wake
Or sleep
Or breathe
Or cross my legs
And squeeze tight to feel your sting
Through folds of fabric
Friction and heat
This, my dull, throbbing ache

My heart is my own worst enemy
What a useless organ
Defenseless and weak
It will not forget
Every word, every word
How gently you held it in your hands
Squeezing out its last drop
This won’t hurt a bit

~ by acrichards on July 13, 2010.

2 Responses to “Bloodletting”

  1. Still? *hugging you* Hang in there my sweet.

    • Thank you, dear. I wrote this one in April. I’ve just gotten to the point where I felt like sharing. It will always be, but one day it will not hurt so much.

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