by Royal   Nov 15, 2009

As I precede to speak.
I remember my knife.
Locked away for many years,
I bring it back to my sight.

Reunited at last,
I brandish it low.
My wrists start to cringe,
as they remember the flow.

The release of my pain,
the release of the hurt.
The relief of my blood hitting the dirt.

Inexplicable emotions, Hit hard as waves.
Nostalgia, My body remembers the days

The days of old this blade got its do.
Never failing where others do.

Reunited at last.
This Blade and my Blood


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Latest Comments

  • 14 years ago

    by Lynn Anderson

    Its nice to see that you kept it real! (even though you may not cut yourself). Very good read with lots of emotion.

  • 14 years ago

    by Royal

    I dont cut. Writing is my release.. I kind of shorted myself on this one because i had not written in almost 2 yrs.. i came back to see if i missed this side of myself and i do.. thank you soo much for the vote and comment i will writing more really soon

  • 14 years ago

    by Poet on the Piano

    This was a very haunting write, the flow was consistant and you gave me the chills when I read this. If you seriously do cut, please do not. It is a destruction of the Temple of the Holy Spirit, your body. "There is hope for you yet, because God won't forget, all the plans he has made for you, you'll have to wait and see, he's not finished with you yet." ~Brandon Heath

    God bless you friend!