Prompt

The dullest things always hurt the most.

The dull, heavy throb of a heart that knows it will never be whole.
Dull blades are the messiest.
The pain echoes over and over again, building scar after scar, discordant cries forever etched in all who have ears to hear.
A quick knife, slicing easily through skin and sinew like butter, would surely be the better fate.

-Kris