The Sharpest Blade

Quiet is the morning's mood The distant sound of city hum ad river running Are respite from the voices That visit through the night Only use the sharpest of blades Guided by the steady hand and quiet mind These fine lines are all small cuts Don't be afraid Dust motes dance on the sunbeams Flying airborne and free But they fade and fall When shadows come just like me The knife edge seems to know where to go Every movement perfect with no resistance Like someone or something Knows what to do They say what doesn't kill you But I say that's just not true We fold these fragile hurts And dig them down deep But they're not gone They want to be free And when they come They cut just as deep And it just takes longer It just takes longer It just takes longer It just takes longer