Knife II

She played in the kitchen

Knives as partners

They danced on her skin

Leaving trace reddened

The thin dermis blushed

The point leaving her naked

Her insecurities ready

For her to kill it with pressure

It’ll die with the drying blood

But she’ll be sure as hell

It’ll regrow

With the fading scars.

Photo by Nilay Ramoliya from Pexels