Release

I used the idea of a blade being like an angel for depression as it saves us from the demons within us.

Rupture the earth
the soiled flesh from which chasms yawn
and with humble gilded blade,
destroy,
without acknowledgement of sacred skin.
Distorted wrists, twist.
Let the angel draw out the demons,
until their claws and forked tongues are left to stain the sheets.
Stubborn beasts take shelter
beneath spare knitted flesh.
Why wait for their fangs to pierce through,
when the winged saviour can surrender them now without regret.
Liberation settles,
and the blade can rest in its buried box
for tomorrow’s demons.