Walking on the tightrope

Walking on the spine of your knife
I teeter and totter between
survival and life

here in your domain of domination
and power plays
has no place

here in your world of intimidation
love has exhausted
all grace and reason

hanging on the edge of your blade
I’ve fallen from grace
above us a canopy of darkness
where stars have fallen
under your toxic breath
crumpled up and turned into
a whetstone

dangling by the ledge of your skean
use me as target practice
slice me lean or into shreds as
you’ve done to those doomed stars
that once shined for you

shed a tear or two for me
when I lie there beneath
you gasping my last breath
swallowing your only tear

maybe then would you realize
that i was your only friend
my dear.

– Rosana Sam


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