Dropping Knives Into Tides

Some people I knew
could cut deep into me.
I bid them slide off the beach
returning to the sea.

I would run marathons.
I would breath deep.
Pondering the knives
that rip into people’s sheets.

Me I quickly I go to
that inspiring place.
To where I save face
onward in stoic pace.

Where with calm I question
the tide rolling out.
Tried did I to question
solace with sincere doubt.

Yet some can cut us.
They’re sharper than switchblades.
You can only hold on so long.
Too tightly and become unmade.

Once I thought I knew
one that no longer comforts me.
No friend I can remember
upon that tumultuous sea.

Sharp like a knife and un-bending
tried did I to grasp
the power of such a thing but
I had to drop it fast.

Falling to my knees
chastising the tide rolling.
The sun went down,
emotions can be controlling.

So it’s best to let go
of some things loved too much.
That is when we heal
from their defeating cuts.

Let them get carried
away in the sea’s foam.
It’s better to remain sane,
and watch dawn arrive alone.

Go with God tell them.
It’s what I begged her to do.
So that I could find
the feeling I knew was true.