The final cut

You ask me to wait

You offer me promises

But I know this

I am no longer the little child who needed her mother or father

So desperately she was haunted long years by that absence

And with the remanants of that lack

Trapped deep inside I will never be truly free

And old patterns will just repeat

So its time to open the door and move forward

I cannot forever hover here

On the brink

Waiting

(Even though not fully aware of it)

For rescue

There is just too much life to live

And after all death has kept me prisoner for so long

And I sense Spring

Even though it is winter

Spring was stolen from me at 17

And now at 56 I say there must come a time

For lost seasons to reappear

In my mind I see Saturn with his scythe saying to me

With a glint in his eye

There comes a time in every life to make the cut

And there will be blood

But blood is life for

For what does not live

Cannot bleed

And so I raise my arm

And bring down the knife