Stained Monochrome Wings

Reversion

04-11-13

Put down the blade,

the pill, the tobacco.

You cannot. It compels you,

entices you

like an ambiance

heftier than a schoolgirl's first

antiquated love.

Realizing the need to refrain,

you try,

it tempts,

you give in,

so many times,

over again,

relapsing.

The withdrawals will come,

along with impulsive actions, hankering

for just one more

just one I promise and then I will quit.

Just this last pack, really!

One more cut of the razor blade

across your silken flesh,

an agitated arousal to bring about

a bodily harm to your own self;

The recrudescence,

will not surface.