Gentle things

A knife is kinder to me than you’ll ever be
And life when caught by your eye
Grows so lowly
Some things can seem so gentle
in comparison to your hands

That’s something I’ve come to understand

If you were a man of faith, your fists would be holy
A shame to let her fly
Instead of kept closely
And if my body were a temple
It’d be part of God’s great plans

Some things can seem so gentle
in comparison to your hands

Tousled, torn and crushed
Bleeding an act of lust
A free-for-all torture doll
with organs meant to serve

“I see one over there, get her”

Shame I choose the knife over you