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Vitæ Mar 10
His blade
is a stainless mirror
with edges tempered
to bend and breathe
a mortal whisper.

It cuts perfectly inside
the one who crosses the night,
restlessly tearing its blinding veil
for a glimpse of tomorrow's light.

The wanderer sleeps
with the enemy within,
ready to pierce his life
in a single dream

and so he enters —unafraid,
the endless doors of undoing,
for all that empties into the blade
is a lightness of his own becoming.

Deep the wounds may be
yet he never bleeds;
His blade is an undying breath
when Death follows beyond him.
I S A A C Apr 2023
calm down while sun beams down
yearn for less and crave nothing
disappointing investing in second guessing
calm down while reading Circe
ponder the ways that men have hurt me
remove the blade instead of pushing it deeper
hand in hand, i am married to harmony
pearl earrings, pearl ring, pearl bracelet
i find beauty in everything i am facing
Elaenor Aisling Dec 2021
His eyes were headlights at midnight
The unexpected dawning of a new world
Snatched away as suddenly as it came
Leaving in its wake,
The blinding stare of blue-black patches
Staining the asphalt like spilled paint.
Oh, my dear,
You flew, too fast, too high,
the reckless wantonness of youth
grasping through your wings,
The way her hands once ran through your hair,
what do you have left
But the drag of gravity,
The silver blade of the scream
Just before
The fall.
Nickolas J McKee Nov 2021
My last word of you was a summer’s seppuku,
The touching of an unknown soul.
As always love chased in life of everything:
Sing! The burning blade!
What more to grasp for,
Too late the tears or the fight.
Deadlings from the beginning to the end, who knew?
Rotting flesh & loose heads on pole,
Under a cherry tree steel to stomach shade.
The ships have all sailed,
War no long of more.
Loose & gone all of my might,
Before me lies the slain, the lost, what left to slew -
Inserted my tanto to hole…
Inspired by listening to Nine Inch Nails “Sanctified.”
mark soltero Jun 2021
trust is something sharp to hold
for someone important
in a perfect world we'd never bleed over one another
chrome blades dig into each person
who lost grip with their loved one
in a perfect world trust would be dull
significance is in the blade
filled inside of the atoms
are the affections, promises and lust we carry
a perfect world is plastic
empty atoms
hollow and dead on the inside contain nothing
I rather take the blade than poison myself
el May 2021
like the blood that seeps
through the holes n gaps in my skin
i patch it up
with paper and tape
but what lays underneath
calls every blade to my skin
i try again
to keep it away
but it causes a hunger that's impossible to satisfy
in any other way

but maybe that's a story for another day.
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