Poetry Blogs (knife)
A single knife in the kitchen sink.
Its warm blade, used and discarded.
Fresh liquid dissipates gently into the water,
transferring its fragile bond away from the solitary metal.
The gentle waves wash over its sharp edges,
Whilst its owner viciously scrubs at their hands in the pale water.
Once full of dominance and purpose,
It lies there, useless and despised, ...
Friday 19th February 2016 3:06 pm
My Blade, My Life (by Mel)
With trembling hands, she reaches for her blade. She tells herself it will be the last time.
She tells herself this every time.
She never succeeded before, but will just have to now.
With the blade in her hand, she breaks out into a cold sweat.
She starts shivering and her heart beats faster.
She thrives on these feelings,
she tells herself she mus...
Saturday 14th April 2012 2:07 pm