Was there much pain?

"Was there much pain?"

"No," I shook my head in reply
At the mirror me to the side.
"No, the feeling is actually quite queer."

Although Blood escaped the cut,
Surely knowledge entered instead
From the edge of the word riddled paper.

Wiping off the Gore
From the pale, still bleeding digit,
I glance again at the book in my palm.

A small dot of Crimson
On the corner of the front page
Seeped deeper and deeper all the way through.

Soon, the whole script was soaked in Cherry.
Jumping, I dropped it to the floor.
But then, again it was snowy once more.

Surely I was hallucinating!
I peered at my finger and saw
Words written in black had covered it raw.

I didn't even notice before,
The Ink enter the slice like a door.
I ran to the kitchen and grabbed a knife,

Then chopped it clean off with no strife.
"Ahh, truly ignorance is bliss."
I sighed, glad to be back in the abyss.

The swirls of madness became unmasked
And I knew I should never ask,
"Was there much pain?"