Too deep.
Couldn't turn around to see.
But at a glimpse of the hand holding it,
never would have imagined.
It was a supposedly a kind hand.
Then all the screams at the wounded.
What are you thinking of?!
Nothing is the same again,
no matter how we try.
Couldn't find any more decent reason.
It was the wound,
the only bare fact.
Showing itself clear.
Not sure if the knife is still there,
or has fallen down.
Because the hurt is felt somewhere else now...
Nov. 17th, 2000.
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