Slice

It wouldn’t take a moment

To slice a life away

A knife sits poised above my wrists

The veins are blue and raised.

Peculiar that earlier

It sliced the veg to eat

This knife that now so threatens

Provided me replete.

Yet now it stands here ready

To do its certain harm

It would take just a moment

Of injury to this arm.

It’s a tempting proposition

When I’m feeling of a mind

But as soon as it arrives

It leaves me far behind

And drifts off to another

Whose desperation calls

For solace and an end

To a life of agonies.

So for now I am saved

And have a chance to live

To love again and reflect

On all that I can give.

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