July 5, 2010

Cut loses

Tending my self's edge, dangerously sharp
Savant weapon silenced the heart
Better than to feel pain of spinning wheel
Or remnants of warmth as away they steal
The sorting of emotions as I rip apart
Returning to the blade that I was at start
I am not she/he, without become mere thing
Twilight to nothing, his/her passing.
2001


Image from Derknives.com
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