Cut by A.X. Salvo
From the book:
The Teeth Of The World Are Sharp
Now I kneel here
at her grave
wondering
which words to say
I sensed this loss
so long before
that sad, slow knock
came at my door
Now I lay here
in the snow
shaking
naked
and alone
I’ll cut myself
and bare my bones
until I see
her perfect ghost
I wrote “Cut” over 20 years ago after learning that my dear friend Sam had died of a heroin overdose. Her death was a surprise to no one who knew her well. We knew it was coming despite all the attempts we made to help. But it destroyed that last bit of naiveté I had left. I became much more distant with people. And there were many times when I struggled to stay alive and fight the temptation to join her.
Sam and I shared more than a few demons, and she was 3 years older, so I looked up to her in certain ways. She encouraged my early writing when no one else cared or just thought I was a pissy little goth kid. She had fantastic taste in music and was responsible for my infatuation with Tool. Sometimes, I can still hear her singing and humming along to the radio.
For a long time, I hesitated to share the poem, leaving it buried and forgotten in one of my tattered notebooks for decades. I rediscovered it in 2020 after cleaning out my closet, finally surrendered and included it in my third book, The Teeth Of The World Are Sharp. It was the right decision. Without this poem, the book would have been incomplete.
Beautiful.