I have always been interested in the idea's of sadism and masochism. this poem is my idea of how a masochist whould think. I find it interesting. i have to say: most of my poems are based around some truth but this one Isn't. It is very dark and there is more dark ones coming.
Mind of a masochist
I scream as I cut again,
Yes!! Ahhh the Punishment, I giggle through my tears.
I deserve this . this pain is the punishment for my crimes. My screams mixed with manic laughter, echo through my brain as the knife drops from my grasp.
The loud clatter it makes as it hits the floor struggles to be heard over the echoing screams still bouncing around my skull.
I stare at it for a moment, just as the echo’s pass then follow it down as the world faids to red.
Its only quick, then I’m on the ground. Vision clearing as I lay there with my heart pounding, head throbbing, blood pouring.
I let out something, a mixture between a sob and a laugh as I fumble around blindly for the knife, hand eventaly connecting with the sliperly blood soaked handle, holding it for strength before I try to rise but pause, waiting to regain strength.
When I’m ready I try again, grabbing a near by wall as I struggle to lift my shaking body on to legs of rubber. I latch onto a table which I use to get me stager into a standing position, I stand there swaying , staggering around trying to stay upright and make a shaky step forwards.
My vision blurs as I stumble, crashing into some unseen object and fall. Vision disappearing. Then there is pain again, greeting me as I fall, fall into the endless oblivion of darkness
