it's been awhile since the blade and my delicate skin have made contact
my skin sometimes BEGS ME to see the knife again
every time I put dishes away and I look down at the knives in the top drawer I cringe inside
my hands want to hold them until I can't take it anymore and cut
but my mind is slowly losing it's grip on reality
I've learned a few things with the hands on the clock that never go backward, only forward:
I learned that the longer you wait, the more you want it
I learned that time itself is an enemy because it doesn't stop for anyone
and I learned that time can not only make us suffer but it also heals.
so maybe this catch-22 is worth a little something
but how will my skin know the difference
between the pain and healing processes
