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Home > Poetry > Pixie Cutter
Pixie Cutter
Anonymous
She cuts her arms in fits of despair
Hiding in the darkness wishing to reach out
I view her wretched body, wanting to shout
She doesn't see me or how much I care
Her body dove white, red tainting fair.
Terrified I watch her with eyes turning wet
yet grossly consumed by this freakish behavior
She looks upon me as though I'm her savior
Saying she's fine, I can't help but fret
Remembering the scars from the first time we met.
Why can't she see that this isn't the way?
The screws dig yet deeper in the flesh of her skin.
Blood leaks out everywhere, expunging all sin.
Still I sit speechless, unsure what to say
I sense a strange debt that she feels she must pay.
Finally she stops and stews in her shame,
calmly cleaning the life-force that's dripped on the floor
barely managing to stand as she leans on the door.
Compared to earlier, she now seems to tame
Foolishly I wonder if it was all just a game.
Deep down inside though I know that's not true
Never before has she looked so small and frail...
I want to say something but her skin is so pale.
No words will come for her eyes are so blue
Searching my own for some sort of clue
Acceptance or otherwise she won't find in me
I make sure instead she sees nothing but love
along with a smile from heaven above
She answers my warmth as though it was key,
Giving a grin as she's finally set free.
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