The Knife

The knife was sharp and swift, and I pulled it in further
but it was as if I was unaware that it was cutting me
or rather blind to the pain it brought
because
it made me
feel so
alive.

I couldn't stop the tears
and they kept spilling out of me
along with the blood
so I screamed out in confusion "Damn you!
I didn't ask for you, nor did I seek you,
yet you have wounded me, over and over."

and there was silence and the knife spoke to me softly and said

"I would never hurt you intentionally. I only saw pain within you that I felt I could carefully remove. So I waited until I had your trust and attention and then began the process of taking out what did not belong."

I was ashamed and felt selfish.
The intentions were clear but I had been blind.
Afterall, it was a knife.