Your Arms Around Me

In the microwave's door dead set infront of my face I don't see me slip.
My hands linger in the water after I've let the knife fall. They were slow to enter and slow to release. I see red spiral fumes dance and twirl. I look down and see you're right. Then gone is my hand. My arm. It's all very subtle. Everything spreads outwards like stars in the ever expanding universe and I'm left looking at the bloodied sink. All bloody now. The red sea. I smile. Somehow the red turns to darkness. Not blue, not black. Darkness. And even when I'm awake I don't notice myself slip.