joi, 14 decembrie 2017

The duelists

On our sixth month's anniversary you came home and said
"Chicken, I bought us matching swords
From now on, when we hurt each other,
We'll both have similar injuries
Cuts of the same depth
And sharpness
Blood mixing together, dirty on the blades
And we'll never wash them
The traces will be left there
For all eternity, so we can remember
Where it started."
One day I decided my sword fit better in the drawer
Than in your heart, so I put it away
When you came for our duels I just said I'd forgotten it
And you cut me all the same
With your own
I couldn't even defend myself
And one day you forgot you're not on a hunt for trophies
And stuck your sword so deep I forgot how to breathe
You got scared and you ran away, you didn't even take your blade
So I kept it inside, out of fear I will die
And the body healed, with the sword inside
It grew scars around a long stick that didn't even look like a knife anymore
But that grew out of me, keeping all the people aside.

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