Tag: Self-harm

A sadness runs through him
Like the coldest river
Like the bluest river
Crashing and coursing through
Dams of debris

Dammed and dashed against
Banks and rocks of
Psyche and skin.
Coursing through veins
To the pools of his open palms
And drips from his fingertips.

A sadness runs through him
Like oil through saltwater
Slowly spreading and sticking
And clotting and clinging
To his body and soul.

A sadness runs through him
Like wild cats through
The limbs of the trees of his veins
Silent and swift but
He still feels the pain
Of their claws sinking In to his skin

© Emilie C. Black, 2020