I tip-toe the sharpened edge


Stay away,
You can’t be responsible for this
These open wide cries
This splitting of my wrists

I’m standing at the end
I tip-toe the sharpened edge
May this reckless air be blessed
My higher soul I do not stress
On I press, so limited
It’s all that I can do
The risk I carve right through
To give myself little more room

To linger as a wound
Slit of pattern-less time
Sorted fast out of line
As the blood begins to dry

Just wanted to post the painting I did that goes with this poem. Below is a skull drawing I’m beginning. If I can get my head clear long enough to paint it, I’ll have that up this weekend probably.




Filed under Art

2 responses to “I tip-toe the sharpened edge

  1. The skull is just so awesome.

  2. Your art is definitely getting darker. The skull really is awesome; I like this early version as well as the later, finished one. The one above reminds me of a kind of leap of faith. There’s the edge to fall off of, but there’s also the smear of blood to walk across. I don’t know why that came into my head, but it did. I think both of these are some of my favorites.

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