That Inward Crying

The blades of betrayal you thrust inside,
Twisting them to make you bleed,
Too used to the pain,
You turn & turn,
Not numb enough to let you sleep.

Your veins wreck,
The gust too strong,
The tears roll,
But not for long.

You twist & turn,
The hole too deep,
The blood flows,
But you don't weep.

Nothing left to cut you more,
The blades too blunt,
The wounds too sore.
No tears now,
No blood left to fall,
Just that inward crying,
The sharpest pain of them all.