"I'm better, I'm better." She lies to herself
as it hides tucked away, taped under her shelf.
"I am loved, I am loved." She convincingly yelped
as her vice hides away until she calls for help.
"I am strong! I am strong!" The poor girl carries on.
He's unhidden and waiting to come sliding along.
Drip, drip, drip. The girl's hand must have slipped
for her razor is laying, right there, where she sits.
kd