Home alone for twenty minutes
Taking apart stationary
No pressure,
just a clean swipe
It’s sickeningly easy

Simply crossing a barrier
That was formerly invisible
At 13 years old
She says
“I would never do that”

It isn’t a happy release
It doesn’t make her feel good
Nor is it feeling
Anything but numb
It’s the hurting that she values

Little red dotted lines
Like ink on printer paper saying
‘Cut here’
With kiddie scissors
Staining loo roll and tissues

It’s all some sick damnation
From herself to herself
Why do you
Look like this
She can’t stand the sight of you