Blood. 

Crimson, shining, wet.

It pools around my feet, 

Weaving through the valleys of my toes.

Warm to the touch.

Beauty found in the form of creation:

I created this. I brought this to the surface. 

Allowed it to travel my hills and valleys;

Emotions running over my knees

Hate dripping off my thigh

Love contouring my wrists.

Power found in the smallest of objects:

a razor.

Sharp. 

Metallic, shining, sharp.

Smooth to the touch, 

piercing to the skin. 

Blood drips, 

It pools around my feet.

Nothing. No beatify. No power.

I feel nothing.