Knives

I hardly exist at all
And never more than what I can recall
I sit isolated and reach
For some part of me to register in speech

But I don’t think I know
If I ever really knew
I don’t remember myself
so much as I remember you

I don’t remember my face
But I remember the feeling of how you looked at me when I would smile
I don’t remember my name
But I remember how you said it so harshly once in a while

I have no sense of who I am
But I have a sense of the person you see in me
I really like that person
Far better than the one I can ever be

All of this really perturbed you
And I really hate that I unnerved you
The me that I am doesn’t deserve you
But that person you adore, really wants to earn you

I really had no me at all
Before you came and introduced me to what you saw
And now there is a me that I can envision
When you leave and I’m lost in the division

The scars will be tender marks
A direct connection to wherever you are
My body never knew a touch
Before it knew your blade’s cut

I swear, I never adored a knife so much

 

 

© Zianna Libardo Valexia Valtero, 2016

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