the skins of the trees stretch long & thin. one by one they fall in the dark beyond the window as she stares out. she wads herself in the chair & tries to drown, fills the pit inside till the sickness comes. shadows twist knots around her tighter in the night. she struggles for rest stretches the skins taut never able to fall out of herself. at night i spread my fingers stare into empty palms watch for her reflection in the blade & make the cuts unwrap the folds of dry skin sliding the tip across pressing harder. ribbons twist out entwined, flowing down over my wrists.
i split the skin deep & smooth curl the edges out at the ends away from me. mother forgive me for i have sinned. only now may i bleed mother, let me bleed let me be you just this once like you instead of other let me twist your screams into something heavier, thicker. let me release you, release him. father forgive me for i have sinned. i take the blade to your flesh let me undress this nightmare work it loose in my hands
now, we are one my hands cupped with your blood you are as empty as me.