Cross Cutting, for two voices EDITED

They held me down,

 

Blades are cheap,

Again and again they cut,

And I scream and I scream.

 

It’s so remote, no turning back.

We’re off to see your grandmother,

They lied.

 

And they act like they’re so happy.

You’ll be beautiful, they say.

 

No-one talks about it, we all know.

 

 

 

 

Sometimes we don’t come back.

‘Why didn’t you just say no?’ he asks.

Like I knew, like I had any idea.

 

It’s easy for you. I spat. You don’t have to.

‘But if my wife, my sister, my daughter …’ He says.

What right have you, I say,

To try to walk in my shoes?

 

It’s too late now, you hold me down.

 

 

 

I chose to go.

 

I don’t know how she did it,

Alert until she faints.

 

 

I shouldn’t have read this,

Shouldn’t have thought …

 

 

A gory trip through YouTube, I can’t stop.

 

 

It’s the not knowing that’s driven me here,

Or is it the knowing,

Knowing that my mother died?

 

And if I’d known, and if I know,

And if I could see, would I still?

And will my girl? What daughter?

 

My breasts are still untried,

Should I wait?

 

 

 

 

I choose the knife.

 

 

 

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