Slash  

An unfinished page lying on the writer's table

Ink bleeds into paper

Candles burn until they can burn no more

Smoke curls meditatively toward heaven

 

An empty bottle of vodka has fallen to the floor

Scars and tattoos

Mapped out in bloodstained euphoria

 

She is possessed tonight

Conversing with phantom memories

 

Is anything more real than cold steel?

 

She wonders at the weight

The nearness of the blade

 

Slash

 

What is real tonight?

 

Slash

 

Does my redemption hide somewhere

Beyond this desolate rage?

 

Slash

 

Is anything more real

Than cold steel?

 

© 2006  Margaret Haugen