| I SPEND most of my times in the dark In enclosed cabinets of your house And in your mind, then you hurt! Hunt, and the lamp turns on I shine to you Pick me, take me, but what can I do? Do for you, Do to you? I do to you what you can’t do, Hurt another the way you want to Why should you use me to hurt you? Why should you remember me in your pain? “A friend in need is a friend indeed” or so they say I was a friend, like a friend I make you forget Your pain, but unlike friends I leave you scarred Like a weapon against your soul Against others, who? The world, who? Forget the world What can the world, does know About what hides in your cabinet? That shines in your pain that reflects those private thoughts? The lamp when you reach and you salivate and you miss, And you think of all the things you could do with me Secretly, in the dark but nothing happens, nothing leaves Nothing goes its horrible I only sustain, I’m no escape Instead I clear all away A purifying experience making you appear To your reflection as new The growth slayer, outer makeover Slaying the strains of life, and the cells pour The joys, the pains the identities pour And you come now Reaching for what sparked in your heart For me in the dark, The cells In your blood may rust me But the moist in your fingers will leave its marks You were here you used me I have been used to end a few souls but in the end I am nothing, no-thing Just a tool to be used for good or bad And you know this Not a friend no, you know No light, no lamp no shine just a reflection of your pain Only a reflection, a tool Then keep me in the darkness like those medicines and cures Just leave me unwrapped like so many loves Let me be back into your cabinet This single blade let it never shine Never slice, cut You must be your own friend now Don't give me a chance, to spark If I was your blade I should never be wanted Or waited by you. Take a razor as a mirror (depending on its make) and look into the centre of it, look for your eye, your pupil and see straight through the tool, to what's on the other side, nothing but the finger that holds it... |
| Entry No: 20 How do we like it? If I Was Your Blade |
| How do we like it? If I Was Your Blade... ID 1948... |