Teeth, Razor Sharp by experimental
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Description
Sit still, don't say a word. It'll pass. The pain tearing through my heart with those same teeth, razor sharp, will not be long. It was an almost. She used the word almost. How long will it stay almost and not become goodbye? The teeth are tearing at the flesh just behind my eyeballs. She doesn't want to lose me. Those were her words. She stopped herself. It'll pass, sit still. Breath in the good, exhale the bad. The teeth ripped straight through the hardened flesh of my heart, gnawing slowly at the chordae tendineae in the middle. The clothes had come off. I asked to know, I had to know how far it had gone. But she stopped herself. Intestines shredded, leaking burning hot bile into the septum. Sit and breathe, it's over. I know he's scared, but I forgive. Oh, how I could take advantage of this situation to break their friendship forever, but it's not my friendship to break. I'm not going to do a thing, the lesson has already been taught. The teeth, razor sharp, are my own. It'll pass. Sit still, don't say a word. I'll loosen my jaws from my guts and face the sunshine of the day, for all that can come now is the healing, stronger than before. The warmth of the sun absorbs into my skin only knowing that it was almost and not goodbye, for the salutation would only be my own.
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I don't think any description of my metaphors is necessary here.
Comments (1)
Wolfspirit
After reading your writing above Chip, a few quotes have come to mind "The most powerful cause of error is the war existing between the senses and reason. Blaise Pascal and "All man's troubles come from not knowing how to sit still in one room". Quoted in Des MacHale, Wisdom (London, 2002). Blaise Pascal