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Fire in my mind.
I keep having this dream:
The knife is in my hand. I feel this little pain. It's like the world is spinning and away. She's watching me. Why is she watching me? Eyes so blue they frighten me, like standing by an open sea. I look down at myself to see that blood is coming out from me. It's not so slow it's gentle. It's like a river, and tears won't wash it all away. I feel this other feeling, like someone holding me. I hear these words but they make no sense to me. What is she telling me? Why am I crying so? Why are her eyes so clear? And then I hear from somewhere near, but not from her, "Love is not a part time job." I'm drifting out and out, and looking at her eyes. She's watching me. She's holding me. She's doing nothing else to help me. I'm gasping. Life is fading. Everything is warm around me. I am ever so cold.

What does it mean? Should I be worried? I do wish to be held.

Crimson
What do you dream about when you dream?

Don't answer that or I'll fucking kill you.

...What?

A spark of silver over calm, pale flesh.
Red where red is often not.
But deeper still the sliver goes.
Black is where it ends...

You feel that?
You felt it in the depths of Self.
And self is quiet.
Crimson is life, and it does fall.

What is the black, love?
What is the Black?

How deep do your wounds go.
How shallow the cuts you make
In quiet, undeserving flesh.

What more is there to say?