Oh the pulchritudinous
Nature of blankness
Before – so appalling
Now – becoming
I rallied once
Behind nerves of steal
Thinking endurance
Was something that focus
Would seal
But now nothing at all
On the edge of the knife
Can be blown here or there
And that evenness is like
Everything I’ve needed
Like everything I’ve lacked
It’s the presence
Of the resolute
With no knife in your back