Today I touched a blade,
I rubbed against it and it all felt the same.
I couldn’t tell the difference between the purple and the red
From it drenched every drip against the metals melted way
I couldn’t tell the difference between the fire and the rain,
And every drink I sipped
It all tasted the same.
My hurt,  I thought was loving,
My loving only hurt.
My mind weighed out and my heart feather like,
Should I have never let it flown?
-kn