Turn around, one step
Boom.
A pillow thrown intently at your face.
Blind for a moment
And then staring in bewilderment
At that needle you've been searching for.
Unveiled.
Touch her.
Pin prick of blood
Waits a moment before appearing.
Pauses for effect
Then strides on stage with certainty in its existence.
Presence.
It slowly expands diameter
Burst, and oozes
Down and around your finger,
Gripping it gently with its warm, red touch.
This is her. The needle.
This is the red you've longed to shed all your life.
Do not pressurise the puncture.
Do not prevent the thick wine from
pulsing onto your skin with every heartbeat.
It is trickling now
But soon the dam will break
And it will flood your every pore and crevice.
Feel it's warmth,
Close your eyes and revel in this discovery.
Put the needle on a chain and hang her by your chest.
Cherish her
And remember that she was never yours to find.
Never yours to keep,
But graces you now in a way which you must reward.
As the blood streams from your body,
Notice its continuous depth.
Deep red rich blood
On and on in bountiful supply
Vast hidden reservoirs you never believed could live inside you.
Marvel in these resources
As they pour into your soul.
This is not planet earth
This is you.
Just you in all your inescapable morality.
No need to save for future endeavours.
It ends tomorrow.
Feel it.
Let it kill you.
By KON (me)









