A poetry piece that was not meant to be.
You can read it here: WHAT DO YOU GAIN?
Being stabbed by someone with words or actions is unfortunately common in this world of expressing yourself. If you are angry, say so. But what does the other person feel? What do you gain? Do you feel better about it afterwards? Does it make you a better person? Why are you so afraid of the recoil?
Something will be irreplaceably damaged by that knife. That wound will bleed and drip. It will not close up, ever, until the person is dead. If by some miracle it does, the scar remains, the fear remains.
What do you gain?
Everyone gets hurt in their lifetime. These wounds either serve to help one grow into a better person or into a bitter person. A giver or a misery. Do you gain experience or fears? Do I gain satisfaction or morbid fascination?