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Tuesday, July 18, 2006

My old friend

Cutting through the pain I hid
deep inside so long ago,
unspoken words in my blood whisper
and my penance is complete.
The knife-edge is my painful friend,
my confessor and my judge,
it cleanses even as it hurts;
those bloody lips bless me.
When words have failed me
and my sorrow is too great
when fearful energies course in me
then my old friend will call to me.

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