Needle and knife

I might fall apart today
As I choose between
The bright of the knife
And the bright of the needle

The knife knows how to open
To dig
Carve out worms and rotten flesh

It knows how to placate me too,
Sings me a song of work to do
When it and I have learnt to
Survive on my blood

It sits on my belt
Satisfied that even though
I never sharpen it
I will always weaken back into it

The needle knows how to close
To sew shut and let heal what
The knife has opened

When the knife has cut out the worms
In the wounds that won't grew trees
The needle sighs gentle stitches
That only sting a little
That sing, rather, old marching songs,
Lullabies, composed just for me

Last night I chose the knife
Today I choose the needle
Touching my tongue to the sun
I thread the needle with light

I will sew up the places I opened
Sew closed the places that hurt
Unpick the the stitches locking me in

Bright stitches will mark my journey
To the bright of the needle
From the bright of the knife