The KNIFE

This knife used to be dull. Incapable of hurting me. Powerless over me.
It could force itself upon me and I would feel nothing.
It could stab me at the back but it could never touch my heart...until now.
Now, just the mere thought of it hurts me.
To feel its presence near me makes me nervous...shiver... in a good way.
It has gained some sort of control and power over me.
I like it and dislike it at the same time.
This sensation is just plain STRANGE. It's WEIRD.
I want it to be gone but at the same time I want it to always be there.
No. The knife is not at fault. I don't blame it.
I am hurt by it because I have allowed it to.
I gave it control over me. I let my heart feel its sharp edges.
And I can't seem to reverse what I did anymore.
Make it lifeless in my sight the way it was before.
Atleast for now I think.
The knife is not at fault.
It is a mere instrument lying around in the world.
I picked it up.
I held its handle.
I let it cut through my heart. Pierce. Stab.
I gave life to it.
When will I be able to put it down again?
Should I?
Answer me.
Now.