365 Days of Poetry (Part Four)

Day 187: Words Like Weapons.

Killing me softly, your words like weapons.
On the edge of a knife, I sit, my heart pierced.
What is it you want, that you treat me this way?
Merely to know where I stand, my place in your world.
A soul so shaken, so overtaken by fear's ice-cold grasp.
Never having been one for such feelings.
Opening up to my heart's true desires.
Perhaps then I may see, what my life has been lacking.