the razor blade show

As I hold him in my arms tonite

The tears flow over our bodies

No words of comfort are formed

Nor a motion nor a thought

He turns slowly as to explain why

And lifts his skin over his head

And I gasp at the sight

I reach to touch him, stop as he wimpers

His once vivid soul now burns so dimly

Covered in bruises, marred with scars

Your hate cuts words into him

The lash marks of the abuse

Gushing wounds of injured heart

The man who always took my pain

Now vunerable before me, naked soul

I turn, lift my skin over my head

Only to find my soul bleeding

He reaches across

I am healed at his touch

I reach across

He, healed by mine

We pull our skin back over our heads

To find they are attached

As separate, his souls abused and my soul bleeds

And so we remain