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A Labeled Cutter
November 16, 2008
I see your scars
Your punctured marks
I see the barely faded lines
Raised high and white
Across your arms and hips
I've never felt so dead
Across your thighs and wrists
I've never felt so alone
I try to imagine what you used this time
A razorblade. A pin. A tac. Scissors.
I try to imagine the reason why this time
Her. Him. Them. Memories, frsh or old.
Upon your delicate frame
Beaten into yourself
Emotions are on high
They don't know
They have words like knives.
© Veronica N., Kenora, ON, Canada
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This article has 3 comments.
Anna Mari said...
on Jan. 23 2009 at 9:36 pm
wow i can relate the this too, you have alot of talent as a writer!
cancerbri8 said...
on Jan. 14 2009 at 12:06 am
Alliy, this is my favorite poem and i think that a lot of teens who deal with cutting can relate to this. keep on writing sista! love you <3
dbcjk499 said...
on Jan. 9 2009 at 9:39 pm
I really like this and I can relate, alot.
