Edges & Scars

Before the last time

He felt such anger,

It seemed as though

The pain wouldn’t end.

Hardly able to think,

Being so very livid,

As the agony passed

Replaced by rage.

Alone in his flat,

He had made a choice

To confine himself

When so infuriated.

Never wanting a repeat

Of the bloody events,

That created some scars

And hard things to forget.

For three straight days

He remained alone,

To sleep and dream

And calm his mind down.

Transformed in solitude,

Where the sequence

Had first been understood

And its cycle ended.

If ever again he felt

Forced into life’s barbs,

He’d use the same methods,

Self serving as they were.

Following any such agony,

No longer would fury fill 

The deep red piercings

From life’s sharp edges.

Ria 2016

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