She lacked her own unique
fingerprints
Folded in the grip of others too
much like herself—
Just a worn paper doll from a
long chain
And she couldn’t tear herself
away.
He was all jagged edges and
steel splinters,
Rust-stained and coursing
through her veins.
There was no question he would
end up
Lodged anywhere but in her
heart.
Yet he still was a scissors;
It was his nature to cut her
out.
But he couldn’t hurt her
anymore
When her heart became a stone.
He smashed himself upon it.
Scissors cuts paper,
Paper covers rock,
Rock smashes scissors.
It could never have played out
any other way.
