stone

It used to be
Crystal prisms
Fading
Into the shady colors
Of night
Of forgotten
A rock
Pounding
Dulling
The sharp edges
Of the past
Now
The hazy face
Comes into focus
Now it is a stone
That hones the edge
To a fine instrument
A razor-sharp scalpel
Dissecting my life
While I still
Breathe
And bleed
And remember
Profusely