The knife feels so good in my hands. I feel it up and down, letting my fingers touch the sharp blade. Blood trickles off of it. I stare at it in delight. I am alive. The blood, living, is telling me that I am alive. It’s quite a thrill, and it makes the moment even more wonderful.
No, not wonderful. Or, if it is wonderful, it is the perversion of wonder. Yes…
I ignore the words – words are meaningless – and stare at the blade again, feeling myself get giddy. Unlike words, this is tangible. The blood, the knife… the only thing which isn’t tangible is the feeling that is coming over me. The rush of exhilaration. The feeling of being alive.
It is a wonderful feeling, I realize with a start. It’s silly that we don’t think about life until death is involved. Life, when you are alive, is just a given. Never questioned, never answered. You are what you are. But when death is involved, suddenly life becomes precious. So precious…
“What are you doing?” my brother suddenly says. I see him poke his face in my room.
“Um…” Quick! An excuse! “I wanted to see the molecular composition of blood.”
He frowns. “You’ve been reading some of that poetry on YWS again, haven’t you?”
“Um… actually… yes. How did you know?”
He rolls his eyes. “The last time you read a lot of that poetry, you ‘accidentally’ stapled your thumb.”
“Um…”
“Stop reading that stuff.” With an exasperated sigh, he walks out. I stare at the knife again and then quickly put it away.
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125,021 Literary Works • 672,742 Reviews
hahhah...I got a right laugh out of that Snoink, pure brillance...well and the fact that it reminded me of the time when one of my best friends shot herself in the ass with a staple gun...and then her cousin's foot...
well to recap from the tanget,
Nicely done, CL
Wha? Oh. No, post your poems, please.
*grabs nearest sharp object around* My precioussssssssssssssssss......
LOL Nice
I like the ending very much 
*blinks* wow... very interesting... *rereads in and starts to laugh*
*decides she must go to bed because she is finding this far to funny*
nicely done, Snoink
Goodness, Snoink. Remind me to not post my poetry, then
Random-ish, but funny. not must to rip apart, though :whistle:
but..st-st- staplers? she knows not what she says!
I reserve my best dry humor for her and my younger sister.
LOL! That is so awesome! At first I thaught it would be one of those generic cutting and suacide stories, but then you put a very funny twist on it!
I love reading your stuff, Snoink, ESPECIALLY when Griffen coments on them.
Where does the inspiration come from? XD
Staplers. Oh yeah... that was funny.
Me: "I think I accidentally stapled myself."
Grif: "WHAT?!" He looks at me immediately with a look of shocked disbelief on his face.
Me: I take the staple off. "Look, it's bleeding." I fiddle around with the stapler more.
Grif: "Give me that!" He rips the stapler away from my hands and then puts it somewhere I can't reach. My hand automatically goes towards it. Grif slaps it away. "Out! Out!"
Me: "But..."
Grif: "No more staplers for you!"
And my sister, upon reading it, remarked, "What are you doing with a knife? I barely trust you with a fish hook." She, of course, is refering to the time where I got a fish hook stuck in my elbow and had to be taken to the emergency hospital. XD
Fun times, fun times...
The sad part is that she did accidentally staple herself one time. That'll teach her to mess around with staplers.
As to where my sick sister got the inspiration, I'd have to say she got it by reading some of the more suicide oriented poetry. Especially the really soppy stuff that makes you want to commit suicide. Not because it is powerful, but because it makes your entire existance as a reviewer seem like wasted time.
It's poems like that which turn poetry off for me.
Too bad it happens in prose too.
Lmao very good. I can't say much can I?
How did you get the idea for it?
Laughing is fun