Raw Edge

I bit my tongue hard, tasted iron and regret,

a rush of my words, yet I still can’t forget.

Each syllable caught on the tip of my knife,

a balance of chaos with the burden of life.

It dances on edges, a push and a pull,

yearning to spill out, a vessel now full.

The sharpness of honesty, heavy to weigh,

a longing for courage to speak what I say.