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A cut deeper

there is no sharper knife than truth;

the kind of truth, you knew coming

but feared to face;

the kind of truth, that cleans tables, empties basements and unravels hidden corners,

disenchants the imperfection,

makes compromise impossible,

betrayals hope und heartbeat;

cares neither about pain and blood,

nor scars and beauty;

there is no sharper knife than truth;

a perfect cut, dividing two in one each;

two naked hearts,

pulsing and fighting for survival;

time is all there is,

to stop the bleeding.

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4 comentários


Alison Blevins
Alison Blevins
21 de jan.

Wow! That gut churning moment in a relationship when you realise it is past fixing is where I am with this poem. Brilliantly emotive.

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I love the way you write. There is always a line where I need to take a sharp intake of breath. I enjoyed this poem.

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Membro desconhecido
15 de jan.

The relationship between truth and time is really complex. You show us that here in style

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Nigel Smith
Nigel Smith
15 de jan.

For me this is great poetry, like love, truth is often subjective, but then life itself is. It reminds me of the saying 'sometimes, you must lose an arm to save the body', thing is it will never grow back.

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