Small Child with a Sharp Knife

Screen_shot_2017-12-05_at_08.50.24by Patrick Howse20 Apr 2017

I see blood, I smell it
And have to reach
Deep into gaping wounds,

Packing them with
All-absorbing panic,
While looking desperately

For things to tear
Strips off, for wooden spoons
To wind up tourniquets.

Scared and angry I shout;
Crying now, she
Puts down the knife,

And as we cuddle
She knocks over
A glass of water.

It pools on the table
And starts to drip
Onto the floor.