top of page

Now... or Then?

A light shines brightly from above
A spotlight touching skin
I have no feelings left inside
They've all spilled onto him
More than light is touching me
Darkness holds me tight
I know this is where I should run
And hide, or maybe fight
He holds a pair of scissors
Silver, shiny, smooth
Marred by drops of blood falling
I'm terrified to move
It's too late anyway
His scissors have been used
One more time, I mark it down
As child sex abuse
Fast forward to another life
Still struggling day by day
I have a secret weapon
A special razor blade
Marking patterns on my wrists
The act of slicing skin
Leaves red dripping off the silver
Is it now.. or then?

bottom of page