The Damage is Done

Sharpen the blade,
an old fashioned strop will do nicely,
and sulk away from the smirk
carried in the dream
where someone always beats me
to the finish.

My mood droops again
and I am caught wishing
these swings were something
to cut away swiftly--
like the removal of bandages
that must be changed
so that healing might
be apparent.

Walk,
or run,
near that glistening edge.
My mother was right.
The damage is done
even when you don't mean
to fall.