The First Cut

You remember that very first self-inflicted wound of yours?
Where you allowed yourself to bleed
And let all the hurt leave your body
When you have made a cut this deep.
You wish for love to enter into the grooves of your wound
Dismissing the pain from each layer
Healing you from inside first
Where the vulnerable longings are there.
There was anger. No anger anymore.
There were those hurtful moments. Now mindfully gone.
There is now a sense of numbness
An awareness of the infinite.
But the thought of eternity has somewhere diminished.
Making you let go of undesirable things.
Your mind dances to the beats of the rhythm at which
Your veins are breathing
Exhausted by a sudden turmoil of work
Ready with the will for living, though.
You give your own love for your deepest needs
Like transfusing your blood from one hand to another
Learning all about self-love
Indeed, the first cut is the deepest.