They Cut You

the minute you’re born.
They cut you and clamp you like ears of a corn.
Leaving a little hole in the middle of your belly.
You like swiss cheese they bought at the deli.

They cut off your fingernails and locks of your hair.
And if you’re a boy, well you better beware!
Soon enough they’ll cut you off from the breast,
giving you processed food to digest.

Then they start cutting back on your care.
You cry for them pitifully when they’re not there.
They cut you in more ways than one.
They cut you with words while you’re still young.

As you grow older, they cut down your pride.
Leaving raised welts like smelts on your hide.
You reach out for other people who
are masterful at cutting you too.

Until you grow up and cut everyone out,
even the people who try to help out.
You cut them out like paper dolls.
And end up drinking in bathroom stalls.

You’re so good at cutting things.
Blades become your captive wings.