That Knife .

she stands in the middle of her room , crying , holding onto that knife .

she looks up to her wall where is picture hangs sideways .

 

she sucks back her tears , whipes her nose with her sleeve and clenches her hand tight around that knife.

she takes a step forward and throws that knife as hard as she can .

that knife misses , she tries many times , but it seems that that knife does not want to hit that picture of him .

or is it just because she dosen't want to hit him ?

 

then finally that knife hits him square in the heart , she falls on the floor . that knife falls infront of her .

as if to say " okay , now your turn "

 

that kife killed the thought and idea of you .

 

that knife also killed the thought and exsitance of ...

her .

Author's Note

this poem is ... a poem i guess . nothing more.

Reviews

[Last Lying Look]

Lovely poem. Really good job... get your a*s back on writers cafe!

[peace SiGN./index DOWN.]

its really good

[B L U E]

it was brilliant- the desperate fight to get rid of any rembrance of the person in teh picture.
well told.