Not really poetry but something I wanted to share from a while back.

'"You're the knife."
Words. Clumsy words. Taught to me by my father, and his before, and worn into my skeleton like a bad habit. This was a bad habit, and still is. 
"Be the knife." 
A hoarse whisper in the dark against the swinging, hanging light. Ten competitors, thirty spectators; all losers. Two in the middle. All my li...

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