War Wounds

War wounds.
That’s what he called them.
Slices into my skin.
Beauty at first sight.
Chillingly smooth.
Crazy…
that’s what he called me.
But I disagree
He doesn’t understand.
The way the blade slides across my skin.
Under my command.
I’m in control.
For once.
He doesn’t understand.
The need to feel.
Anything at all.
The realize this is reality
And not a nightmare
But, alas. Its true.
This is real.
But that’s not how it started of course.
Curiosity killed the cat they say
I guess I’m not as lucky as she
Carving words:
‘Dragon slayer’
‘dark’
‘pain’
Those were the first.
My experiments.
Freak.
that’s what he called me.
And I think I like that name
I. the crazy, freak…with war wounds.

by Morbidobsession
posted on 12/15/2007