I watch you holding a knife like a date you've been postponing
you breathe in colors you might not see
my begging becomes some kind of mantra
You could have loved the saturated emotions
as much as I see the voices you ignore
you must have forgotten them in some kind of ritual
That knife starts carving your stomach
your skin decorative and soft
I try to remind you of the details you held sacred
Wrinkled hands you used to use to hold your heart in
pulling hard on parts you do not want
I must be feeling something you never knew
Feet apart from each other
you tell me you are evil
I say you are loved
Even with your blood and terror
I see light and stand in awe
I want to feel you
I grab the knife
and put your hands over my mouth