Sitting on the floor at the foot of my bed.
At 2 AM contemplating fate
in the reflection of a blade.
By the soft glow of the night light,
and the remnants of the moon.
Reflecting in my eyes from the flat side,
thinking on the caress of the edge.
Contemplating burdens,
old soul wounds still hurting.
And fresh tragedy
not yet integrated into my litany.
Wondering what is next,
and how much more i can bear.
But the cold glow of the night light,
offers me no answers.
And i have unfinished business.
So not tonight my newfound friend.
Maybe tomorrow night
when we speak again.
