im a japanese sword that penetrates and twists organs .
i cut you last time, leaving your heart wounded on the floor .
i ran to your side & sobbed with all of my explanations of a 'bitch' who was sorry .
my excuses were those of a half-assed, "i told you so"s .
i told you that i was new at this "balancing of swords".
i told you that i cut someone before .
i warned ;
you thought you were invinsible . but nonetheless, i still twirled myself in your direction & sliced & diced . cuts on your eyes when you kept staring . gashes in arms that squeezed too tight for such heavy hardware. my blades ran across your mind when you racked it over and over and under and over and over .
i used to be dull, pretty with gold lining around my handles. a showcase piece at best . but life sharpened my edges and made me hard to handle . itll take a Samurai to truly know how to hold . how to caress . how to appreciate . i mean, somewhere in my edges is a gracefulness of honorable mention . when used properly, im fun, im beautiful, an interesting commodity. it just takes a man to understand. you were the child in a candy store , but the last thing i am is a simple sweet .