I hear the grizzling crunches and feel your muscle push back as I plunge this dagger into your chest.
I see your watering eyes as I open mine, feeling that you’re more hurt that I’d follow these orders than the action itself.
I pull it out, your blood slowly pooling out of you, and shove this dagger right into my own chest.
I hear the same grizzly noises and feel the same resistance of the tough meat. But this time, I don’t care. I push harder. I want this dagger to go as deep as it can, to cause as much damage as it can.
I catch a glimpse of your eyes, I see the shock, and hurt, and panic, just for a fraction of a second, before you curl up to nurse your own wound. I see the heartbreak in your eyes.
As time goes on, your wound will heal. You may scratch at the stitches, pick at the scab, maybe even claw it open intentionally. But, eventually, it will close. It will heal. There will always be a scar, it may always be tender. But your wound will close.
Once this battle is over, I’ll be glad to see you rush past me in the streets. I’ll be glad to see that you survived.
This dagger; ornate, and beautiful, and crafted with purpose; will stay in my chest. This dagger was made to put things out of their misery. When the aim is wrong and the deer is suffering. When the fox is struggling in an unfair trap. When the bird flies into a window that it thought was just more sky.
This dagger, ornate, and beautiful, and crafted with a purpose; a gift from my beloved; will remain in its new home.
I’ll try to keep it clean. I’ll try to hide my pain. I’ll try to keep this dagger in my chest a secret from unknowing eyes.
Only I will see the puss dribbling out over the bright red flesh, as I clean it in the morning. Only I will pick away the pieces of dead meat from around the blade.
Only I will feel the deep itch, the deep disturbance in my body that this blade caused.
Only I will feel the constant pain as this blade resides beside my heart. I’ll feel the pain with each breath. I’ll hear it rub against my bones as I move.
This beautiful blade, a gift from my beloved, that I used to win this pointless war.
