The Blunt Knife

Her eyebrows furrowed.

She was not expecting this.

The knife she retrieved from the kitchen refused to cooperate with her.

As she squeezed it in her fist,

the blade ceased to cut her palm.

She wanted to see her blood spill all over her bed sheets.

This was her relief from the pain she was going through.

She stared at her hand…

The stress bundled up inside her.

She decided to do the best.

However this was, in some eyes, the worst.

She held the knife in front of her

with both hands -

blade facing south.

And with an impeccable, robust force

she pierced her chest

and fell to the floor.

She smiled covered in her blood.

The knife succeeded her.

-- CrimsonRose333