Cut me
From my cloth

Sew my rough edges together

Hide my insides
Paint a pretty picture

Stick me by your window
For everyone to see
Your handiwork

Or maybe, put me on a shelf
So they give you praise
When your friends show up

Give me a story
Give me a name

All day, children with God-complexes;

Play children of God;

Play authority figures;

Play cops and robbers;

Play house with me;

I don't have a voice
To tell you no
Or the ability
To walk away

But being passed around and used
Can wear you out

The cloth you cut me from
Is just cloth,
The same you were once a part of

But when I start to unravel,
No one is bothered to repair me,

You just take the sharpest tool in your torture chamber

And

Cut

My

Cord.

2019 Shanti Starks (Indra's Child, Lysergicidal Maniac, Lysergic Pancakes)