Lose

I thought I needed this knife,

But now that I have it I’m afraid to lose it.

Someday I’m going to lose it anyway,

But I think of the blood they will be afraid to see,

Afraid to clean.

Clean. Unlike me.

Unlike my mind but like my love.

The knife loosens itself from my grip,

It knows too, I’m afraid to use it because I’m thinking about them again.

And I let it fall because I’m going to lose it anyway.

Not yet but hopefully soon.