TRIGGER WARNING… talking about blades…
The blade and me
The blade is in my bag, not moving
Not breathing, silently shouting to
Have a touch, have a taste of
Freedom and release.
The blade is in my bag, fingers
Caress the edges, unknowingly present
When getting some indistinct item
From where is resides.
The blade is in my bag, cruel reflection
Taunts me, a sweaty girl innocently
Reaching in, persuaded to just
Cut all the fat off.
The blade is in my bag. There for
“Just in case,” Just in case
Mental health backfires, untamed
Laughter. It remains. Chained.
The blade is in my bag. The blade
Stays there laughing. But it remains.
It stays. It remains. It belongs.