Friday, 2 March 2012



I cut.

Without a hitch.

I draw it down, watching the glint of certainty reflect off the steady steel.
I peel back the doubts and fears, delve into my desires. It gapes open, so I start
To dive deeper, shred the restraints and release the barred cage. I sever more, pull
Out the tube of anxiety, wrench out the roots of uncertainty. A coiled snake of
Scepticism stares at me so I penetrate its hide and carve deeper still.
I remove the stomach of suspicion and weigh the dilemmas. I enjoy it
More and more, grovelling over the gashes and salivating over the slits. My
Reluctance and reticence are banished from the realm of righteousness in which
I now reside. I clasp the steel handle, feel its cold comfort, summon Lucifer
From his domain of delicacies and continue. I cut with power, immense
Fury, all to quell my urges and desires. Removing the hive of intelligence
And placing it in a basin, I admire my work. My heart flutters
With excitement whilst I smell the sweet and sensuous odour of lust. Confidence
Becomes me. Pungent fumes float from the cadaver and swirl
Under my nose, intoxicating my being with satisfaction. As the fumes
Dance in my contented soul, they slowly drag my lips up into a smile.

I suture.
Without a hitch.

By Jack Colley