I did not really think it through
When the first few strands of my hair came falling to the floor.

But then again I don't really want to think.

That was the point.

As the blunt kitchen scissors sheared what was left of the choppy mess on my head

I am worthless.
That's what you always tell me.

I don't want to think.

You never really did love me.

You always left cuts and bruises on me
Never letting me heal for your own selfish reasons.

You are never at fault.
But you've certainly made your mark.

Now I can only attempt to cut what damage you've done to me out of my life.

My fragile locks scattered around on the cold tile floor.

I can't bear to look.

You don't know what you've done.
You never will as much as I wish you would.
More strands fall from my shaking hands.

I wish I could cut you out.

-Kore

Taffeta watches the pigs atop the tables
Glass eyes and stitches where they're enabled
Guts pumping crimson liquid
Sewing 'em up, she's addicted
Family and friends recommend she withdraw
She responded with a twinkle in her eye and a dropped jaw
Scissors and string, that's all she'll need
Besides a corpse, of course, and a bit of stuffing
Lilac eyes affixed on a tattered pillow
Enjoying watching a weeping Willow
Her poor Porky pet has met his end
But everyone knows you can depend
Before your sweet pet starts to smell
On Taffeta's Taxidermy to stuff 'em well

Im not suicidal
I just dont want to be alive
     like I dont look both ways before
             crossing the street
     like I dont check how many pills Im supposed
             to take and hope I take too many
     like I cut food with the knife facing me
     like I play with fire and
             I run with scissors
because I still have a little
hope left
but no desire to stay alive

Rock, paper, scissors, shoot
Bouncing words and blades for two
“I’m rubber you’re glue”
How much longer till we’re through?

Breaking bones and grinding teeth
Clenched jaws with fire beneath
Tempers rising with the heat
Rock won’t stop until you bleed.

Rumors splashed across a page
Filled with malice, filled with rage
Money floating to the stage
Get the paper, make it rain.

Cut them down with dagger smiles
Ignore the wounded battle cries
Metal words until they die
“Stick a needle in your eye”

Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.
Look what growing made us do.