but that handle was made for his hand
hand - handle
handle - hand

the fingers would close
around it to never let go
It had to have flesh around it
at all times
But the blade...
the blade was still naked. He couldn't let
the blade naked
It wasn't fair

"So that's why you stabbed your
mommy then?" the psychiatrist asked him.

"Yes," he said.

"The knife is more important
to you than mommy?"

"The knife listens. Mommy doesn't."

He handed me rose with a smile on his face
In each petal was a beautiful lie
The rose touched the tip of my nose
My eyes slowly blinked as my head fell back
I took a light breath over the slightly, wilted petals and just sat still
Feeling everything surrounding me
But, only with my mind
I pull the rose away from my nose and tilt my head a little to the left
I glance at it like it is the most elegant object I’ve ever come across
My finger slid over the soft, thin petal
I watch as I notice a little wind carry out of the rose
It glided past my ear and I hear a slight sort of whisper
“I love you”
My eyes smiled
What a beautiful lie.

j.m.