"Death is Life"
by Angel Loki

Leather bonds,
Hiding cuts and scars
Slid down a pale peach arm
To rest on the elbow of the girl,
Who sits on the floor
Of her bathroom
With a razor blade in her hand.

Blood welts in little doprlets
From small vertical cuts,
Slashes across her skin
In the shape of sybols,
Phrases,
That shout her mind to the world.

She is bent over her thigh,
The razor pressing into her flesh now,
The girl stroking the sharp blade
Deep, back and forth,
Into her flesh.

"It is done, so mote it be."
The girl's voice,
A soft whisper.
Her voice echos off the tiled floor.

She sets the razor blade down,
Her bloody fingers leaving a trail of blood
On the surface of her porcelain sink
As she lovingly strokes
The blood that welts up
On her massacred thigh.

In a band around her thigh,
"Death is life."