Gashes Poem by Kristina Fleissner

The blood streams down your arm,
As you lift your staple,
Up to see,
What it looks like,
You wipe the blood away,
Deeper you think,
You want it deeper,
The deeper you get,
The more it will hurt,
Blood its all you see,
You wipe it away,
As you feel the gash,
You made in your skin,
How many gashes?
It could be endless tonight,
You think about what happened,
And just keep going,
When will it end,
No-one really knows,
But you feel the gashes,
And think to youself,
I did that.