Saturday, October 18, 2014

Rock-Paper-Scissors

At times
you cut me, to my depth and shred me to pieces
 like a raw rigid paper
this always happens before I crush you, smash the metal rims where
I usually hold you, where you fit perfectly in the spaces of my fingers
then I blend you, carefully like cake-
push me and  I will
fall over you. I, who was once your rock. 

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