Knives


Knives

Each one cuts a little deeper.

Jagged paths that leave shrapnel in their wake.

Yet their destination is simple:

They go straight through to the soul.

Sparkling silver blades

Reflect the darkness left behind

As body and mind are stripped

Of all that makes a person human.

Scabs thicken around each wound

Creating a shell where a person used to be.

Grief unimaginable shows in the eyes

Even when the shell is smiling.

Forever changed.

The world forever darkened.

Hope replaced by terrible knowledge.

As one scar starts to heal,

As one scab peels away,

The knives cut through again.

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