Asunder

I ride a razor blade
Imperfections in its edge
Carve and tear through the slicing's pain
Unmetered notes in a symphony
Of agony at being twained

When I first drew breath the world was me
All was me as I cried the world
With untried soul and unwounded heart
And a mind as yet unfurled

Its agents , vultures , ravenning me
Life would pull me to and fro
As though to test my integrity
As I sought but to know

It is only my mortal
Heart-mind guardians
That steel against the tension
Of those horrid beak's wrenching tear
...and the razor's apprehension

I ride a razor blade
With wounded heart but inviolate soul
From birth's first breath
To pang of death
Ever cleaved , and ever whole