The Cutter

In her mind 
She's done something wrong
And now she needs to pay
With punishment she's learned to deal
How to make it go away

The little silver knife
She keeps hidden in her purse
To make a cut just deep enough
To relieve her of her hurt

She spreads her legs
And bears the spot
Within her inner thigh
Her shaking hand against soft skin
The blood it makes her cry

She does it slow to cause her pain
The injury concealed
And everything will be ok
When the cut has finally healed

Copyright2004©Gerald King