Poetry Late afternoons

[Noahhatesme]

These scissors are to dull
To ever pierce the core
Of what happened when i fell
From three stories up
The metalic comfort of bed sheets
Warm, cozy, and stained
From late afternoons sessions
With silver and a flashlight
The sun set at four
So i kept off the light
Hoping to remind myself
Only cuts know how it feels
So a 90 degree winter
Can be lived with long sleves
I create lines of a poem
And i cave them into skin