Angry. Sad. Hurt. Alone. Crazy. Too much. Explode? No. Knife. Where? Here. Careful. Sh. Ow. Blood. Good. Again. Faster. Blood. More. Again. Deeper. Enough. Peace. Blot. Clean. Wait. Better. But.
Oh you silly child what have you done, playing at cutting? Mere scratches, cat scratches. Why? Only five or six, you melodrama queen. Not so long ago, you wouldn't have settled for less than ten good ones, more if you were hurting. Outer pain to relieve the inner, not so bad. Still you are afraid.
Yes. But.
Next time. Next time will be better.
Yes. Deeper. Better.
But.
Oh, you stupid girl, what have you done? You will never be lovely this way. Those scratches! Sleeves, girl, quick. Why do you do this? Look.
Yes.
Monstrous.
Yes.
Cover them, girl.
Yes. No. Wait.
Do you want questions?
No. Yes.
Your parents? Sleeves, girl, sleeves.
Yes. Sleeves.
And stop being so miserable. Come on, then, out.
Yes.
You asked for it, remember, you deserved it.
Yes.
Don't forget that.
Jacket. Knife? Hide. Eyes? Dry. Smile? No. Frown. Fine. Out.
July '01
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