A Sonnet.

I sigh in greeting of oncoming peace,
Only you can bring such sweet release,
Your cold touch cuts away all trace of pain,
And soothes the screaming anger of my brain.
Thoughts of you swarm all my waking hours,
Sharp as knives and garish as the flowers,
And when I dream I dream in razor edges,
Cutting words and scars from lover’s pledges.
Was ever there a love greater than this?
Lust for your touch and craving for your kiss,
A hiss of stainless steel across my arm,
A climax of pain, and then a rush of calm.
This addiction burns and leaves my wrists so sore,
My greatest love, the scissors in my drawer.