Concentrate (Voices Call)

Voices call and sometimes I answer
Feel the cold blade
How it beckons, longs
To stretch across my skin
Bright red ribbons
Becoming darker, thicker
Hot, wet, wonderful
Freak! Freak! Freak!
They shout into my greedy ear
That’s not normal!
But oh how lovely it is
Stroke upon stroke
A better brush and canvas
An artist could not ask for
With patience I paint line upon line
Creating depth for visual pleasure
I am numb
I feel everything
It’s rapture and joy
Pain within pain
Laughter bubbles to my lips
Who ARE you??
Whispered this time
I’m nobody
Nothing important
I want to be
But …
But what? You said it yourself:
You are nothing

And yet here I am
A nobody who feels pain
Who needs to feel real
Who wants to be made alive
Leather cuffs and makeup
Aren’t cutting it anymore
It’s building
Tearing down
Worthless waste of time
Drip, drip, drip, drip
Everything is turning grey
It’s as if I’m in a tunnel
Razor clatter to the floor
I can see every fiber in the carpet
Muffled voices far away
I can almost make out what they’re saying
Maybe next time
I’ll listen
Until then
Eyes rest
Heartbeat slows
Let go

tara caribou | ©2020

Read this and more in my poetry book, Four.