I have plenty of blades in my house.
I keep them on hands, always.
Currently, my favorite brand is Gilette's King C,
though I used to prefer Wilkinson's.
That was before I discovered Gilette's King C. blades.
They are excellently packaged, sturdy
little boxes with copper and dark blue and white labels
with words lettered in the shape of a diamond,
as if to say even more harshly to the world,
“Here are the sharpest blades in the world,
its one-and-a-half-inch stainless steel plated
with gleaming chrome coating, so brutal and stern
and stubbornly ready to cut your skin,
slicing, perhaps, the flesh of the self you hate,
for the first time, and it was never really the same
after that. All this will we give you.”
That is what you gave me, I
become the tormentor and me the victim, or I
the victim and me the tormentor, blazing
with incisions that smoulder toward misery.