Ulco.nl, poem Down the drain

Down the drain

My eyes lock onto themselves
Empty pools of darkness in the Mirror.


I see them crying,
I blink, my eyes are dry.

Looking through the mirror
I see myself, younger, straighter,
Not yet bent over by grief.


The last tear I ever shead
Falls into a puddle
Mingles with the rain.

I look up at the older children
Laughing at my tears.

I stand, brush myself off,
And dry my eyes.
But inside I cry on.


Back in the present,
The light from the hallway lamp
glints off the razor's edge.
I look down at my arms,
Rub the overlapping cuts.
Today I cut deeper, find a vein.


Blood runs dark red
over my hand and down the drain
I follow my blood down
Into darkness.