The Cutter

The cutter cuts when she is down
the powers in her wrist
her tool of choice a razor blade
she uses when shes pissed

the place of choice the bathroom floor
door closed and locked in tight
with her tool in hand
her demands she will fight

The cutter feels she needs control
feels like shes lost power
so she takes the blade and slices
now her life belongs to her

she controls how deep the cut will be
how much blood she will shed
she controls the pan she will go through
the feeling she does not dread

with each cut comes more power
with each slice comes less care
this methods her only way out
because the stress she can not bare

cut by cut and slice by slice
her worries fade away
watching the blood poor out of her
now on the floor she lay

a pool of blood lie by her side
her wrist still flowing red
her mood on life has changed briefly
her urge has now been fed

the cutter looks down at her wounds
the work that she has done
the demons now have left her
the battle she has won