I knew what you were from the beginning
I could smell the blood on your skin
like a personal perfume
evidence of your heart’s nature
you were made to spill blood, boy
the way a razor blade is made
for cutting away the things you’ve deemed
excess and removable
a tidy separator of wanted
and unwanted
your love carves out life from flesh
with patient precision
until this new fool learns your timely lesson
you can never trust the hand
that holds the blade
without shaking
razor blade [poem]
Larissa Lee 