Posted by Jillian
on 5/14/2002, 11:05 pm
Slash -- The razor-sharp blade penetrates my tender, bruised flesh.
The stark, red blood flows against my pale skin and trickle ... tickles ...
Floating naked in the
scented bath of scalding hot water -- I feel my life slowly draining away. My glassy eyes spy Death lurking in the shadows. He comes forth. Death's ice-cold embrace against my breasts chills my weakening body. Apathy and a twinge of numbed sadness
courses through me and my pathos is felt. Death is startled. He jumps away. And in the pale face of death, I see tears.
For my sorrow is felt by Death itself.
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