Waiting for a blackout,
when darkness covers everything
and hides it all in a sheath of black.
Where I become blind
to all that is there
but cannot be seen.
The pain, the bleeding wounds,
the gleaming knives
in the treacherous hands of my own.
My trust, me
broken into pieces
that cannot be mended.
My eyes red, my face smeared salty.
My head that hangs low,
defeated.
Waiting…
for a blackout.