Sharp Reflections

Lying next to the sink, a razor glints bright,

a tool for decisions, each morning a fight,

each stroke on the skin a whisper of choice,

a moment suspended, no clear, steady voice.

Water drips gently, the tension hangs thick,

memories surface, a haunting old trick,

I wrestle with choices that cut just as deep,

yet still, I approach, these sharp truths I keep.