your
words
flow

thrown
its sharpness
in my heart

bleeding
with another words
that'll flow
and throw
its sharpness
to you

It was not safe
So carefully laid out
Placed in a pattern
So neatly arranged
And I ruined it

I remember the flow
The way it seeped onto
The white parchment
Dying, staining it
A deep ruby shade of
re-
Black
A deep shade of Black

It shimmered
And seemed to dance when
Reflected by my
Dim lamp
And I was smiling

But the pain of my words
It was what forced me to
Destroy them
My organised statement
Simple, to the point, and
Something I wished to take back

So I did
I took all it back
And because of this my hand
Is soaked in
blo-
Ink
My hand is soaked in ink

And I regret
Nothing

she
       was
              sharper
                            than
                                    shards
                                                of
                                                    icicle
                                                             glass

I find myself angry with life.
A low, simmering rage
only too close to a boil.
Once, my mind was
the sharpest of blades,
nothing could stand before me.
Now, it is but a vestigial sort of thing,
a relic of times better remembered.
I am rusted by the monotone
my life has become.
The repetition of every day
comes on as a flood;
I will succumb.

wolf puppy eats bones
pauses for a moment
sharp teeth