My Lover, My Friend Poem by maya crisol

this blade and my firm grip
i pressed against my wrist
a little harder this time...
just as i was about to glide it
again across these old scars
the phone rang it startled me
languid I picked it up mindlessly
a familliar voice....at the end of the line
a voice that hath saved me long ago
from this same darkness that abound
as we speak...i held my fate in one hand
as i laughed i strummed with it
clinking sounds he barely heard
strangely i dropped the edged menace
not once but twice...and picked it up
the hours passed...i had placed it on top
never glanced til i completely forgot
and then we said goodnight
the same sweet dreams we always had
as i put down the telephone
there it was shining in the dark
i picked it up carefully like a fragile crystal
and placed it back where it used to hide
Until then... my lover...my friend....
I'll keep you honed and sharpened.