Machete me in two, my love
For like the thin blade
I make myself thin and
Stradle the tightrope
Caught between the worlds of
Leaving & Staying
Pressing or Abandoning
Taking Care &
Caring for

Let the tip of the blade
Poke just underneath my chin
As the chill it would surely cause
Is the same as i sit here now
With my vodka glass, worn eyes
And a shakily written letter to you,
My love,
Crease and tear me down the middle
Leave the edges jagged
For surely,
That is how I will be
Jagged, rugged,
Bent, even
From the time of cowardice
That yanked, shook and shaped me
Into a person who could not jump
But only be pushed.