The Blade in My Hand

I stare at the blade in my hand.

I know why I’m holding it.

I know what I’m doing.

But I hold back.

I stare at the blade in my hand.

I remember the feeling,

The sharp kiss of the blade.

But I hold back.

I stare at the blade in my hand.

The scars across my chest can never match up

To the scars that I hold inside.

But I hold back.

I stare at the blade in my hand.

I press it to my skin.

I take a breath.

But I hold back.

I stare at the blade in my hand.

I remember what’s happened.

I think of a good reason,

And I hold back.

I stare at the blade in my hand,

Reaching over to the sheath,

And sliding it in.

I held back.

I stare at the blade in my hand.

I remember the moments of happiness.

I hold on to the good.

And I will forever more hold back.