I Might Need A Knife

Sure,

I'll let you go.

Pull yourself off of me, first.

I might need a knife to cut the skin,

Since we became so stuck together.

 

But yes,

I'll try to heal quickly,

Though I'll always have the scars.

 

There, now we're clean and severed.

Deep breath and being sick in the bucket,

But now it's good.

Goodbye, friend.

Everything, apparently,

Must end.

 

 

Reviews

[Nick Erickson]

This has to be the most graphic poem on seperation I've ever read. Excellent imagery and character.

Well done.