Trouble

Slowly the blade separates skin from skin. There, in the tear, we find ourselves feeling the pain of our lives. We feel the blood begin to leave us and know at that moment that it came from somewhere. The origin exists and for a moment, comes alive and out of the darkness like a rising phoenix. We are cleansed by our blood but it leaves us. It leaves us like everything does - like leaves falling from trees in autumns crescendo. We are left slowly and steadily and life leaves us as the blood does, as the people do, as the memories and feelings, hopes and desires, as they bleed and drip and pool and grow into a mass. The ground, cement at this point, covers with our blood and our heart struggles as nothing is there to help it. Our heart needs help, needs life, needs something to fill it and give it purpose to keep on pumping but as each drop trickles away our heart loses its support and its pain at the same time. We are blessed as we forget our troubles and fall slowly into our deepest and most true sleep. Thank you to the blade and thank you to the hole that forgave us our trespasses and led us into the darkness of our creation once more. Our love now lies hand in hand with our hatred and perhaps for one moment, we truly do know peace.