The knife is sharp. I am angry.
I have a cutting board and a knife and a bell pepper to chop.
But there is a different target to my anger, and the urge is growing.
So sharp, so sharp.
But I reign my fury in — fury at her, fury at me.
The bell pepper is left unchopped.
The cutting board is left unattended.
The knife is carefully placed in the sink, far from virgin skin.
I do not trust its sharpness. I do not trust my hands.
The bell pepper is still whole.
She asks me why.
I have nothing to say.
Anna Schoenbach is a DC-based writer that usually writes lighter fare. Published in the food-romance anthology “Way to my heart” and the emotionally intense “Primal Elements” anthology by Our Write Side, she has a few bright, colorful poems under her belt. Right now, however, she is bringing you some of the darker things that lurk in her mind, the ones she might not read to her wonderful parents over dinner. She hopes you enjoy them.