Razor Blade Poem by Anita Wisniewska

Razor Blade



Balanced on the edge of my razor blade

I feel the sun

Through this small window

Breathe early morning

Bird chirping

Traffic roar

Demon dancing in my head

What was that that he just said?

Is every object sharp and poised to slice me

Glittering with malice?

Or gently, as the angel whispers

Floating on clouds of joy

The world swims ]

The world sings

Alive

Yet not alive

I watch

As I have watched

For centuries

So finely balanced

On the edge of my razor blade

Just don't come too close

Don't push me

I might fall

And cut you.