Canvas

                                                                                  
If you cut deep enough you no longer feel it, only the cold of the blade and the initial sting of the first penetrating slice that lets you know you are still alive. The blood runs in a stream from the wound creating an obscure self-portrait on the floor, something……anything to drown out the piercing scream of silence that haunts me every night.  
 
Another tragedy, another cut to mark the occasion. Another heartbreak, another scar, maybe two, maybe three this time. Tomorrow is another day for more, more tragedy, more heartbreak. Another opportunity to perfect my beautiful art, with my body as the canvas.