Guard
The knife goes in and out,
Easily and systematically
Slicing open the same wound
Over and over.
“Give it a rest!”
You might cry,
“You’ve done enough damage
As it is.”
You might but no one
Will listen.
Oh, they will hear,
And chalk it
Up to complaining
And needing to
Toughen up.
“Aren’t you satisfied?”
You try again,
Unwilling to fight
Back…yet,
“Can’t you back off
For just a bit?”
The knife swiftly cuts
New wounds,
Showing no signs
Of ceasing.
You glance up,
Your eyes soft
But firm.
“No more,”
You state,
Wrenching the knife
Away,
“No more.”
You raise up
Your guard,
Your eyes sad.
“I tried…I tried.
But you wouldn’t
Listen.”