Exposure

I was cleaning the drawer

when I found it there—

an old blade, just sitting

next to the bandages,

next to the nail clippers,

next to all the ordinary

ways we tend ourselves.

The light caught it.

Just for a second,

the edge gleamed,

and I thought,

how easily that could do

what it's meant to do,

how close it sits

to all the other tools

we use without thinking.

Months it had been there.

Months I had reached past it,

had known it was there,

had never once

considered what it meant

that something so efficient

at harm

was sitting in my bathroom

like it was nothing,

like it was just another

object,

another way

to make myself

into what

I'm supposed to be.

I didn't throw it away.

I didn't use it.

I just closed the drawer

and stood there

knowing now

exactly where it was,

exactly how close,

exactly how much

damage sits

in the ordinary

if you let it.