Sweet red nectar dripping
Each drop that falls takes a little of the pain away
The anticipation is sweet like meeting a lover in secret
The dance is like making love ending in an orgasm of relief
Glimpsing her steely lover
He taunts her
Her pain is so great she longs to believe him
She holds him, caresses him
She lets him touch her skin very lightly
Feeling the sharp cold metal is titillating
Pressing harder to feel something she can control
Not too hard… yet
Striking the skin like a match but not lighting the fire
She starts to sweat but her hands are freezing cold
Her heart quickens, her breathing shallow
He owns her now
Should she or shouldn’t she
She knows no other way
If she screams she is afraid she will never stop
What can ease her pain?
Who will be her tourniquet?
Will there ever be one for her?
She is the tattered teddy bear that no one cared enough to love
The Poet (April 14, 2015)