Sin Nombre

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Copyright, Sin Nombre

If I rolled out my heart so you could see all the scars.
Would you tell me that you loved me?
Or the pink marks on my arm
These reflections
These echos
What would you say if I let you see them, touch them, run your tongue over the rough ridges?
And if I let you watch me slice my delicate wrist?
What would happen?
Would you get hot, would I see lust, or my own discusted emotions mirrored in your eyes?
Would you hold me close, crush my wounds together in an ambrace?
Would you cry?
Would you scream with me?
WOuld you throw yourself down across my blade and martyr your own hand for my cause?
If you knew would you still see me?
Or would you see a blood-painted paper doll, sorry, sad, damp and folding under the weight of steel.
Would you throw me off?
Take me, my life
From around you like a stained and heavy winter coat?
Would you hold me and scream for me?
Shout out what I am unable, scared, or despair to say?
Would you care?
Would you demand to know, watch, learn, understand?
Will you still me mine? Were you ever?
PLEASE!
You may not want this broken, hurt, vulnerable sex
But I still need you
Can you hear this silent gasp over the whisper of my blade?

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