CUTTING

By Michael Cunliffe

A razor needling patchwork

criss-crossing pale wasted

pallid thigh skin, claret

slices forming a ragged tattoo,

a rebellious hand waving

below short black shorts –

not marks of shame

nor remorse – marks of the horror

of a tormented teenage mind,

yet somehow social media dread

mutated these markings

into a proud badge of honour

worn openly in public –

in brightly lit shopping malls

and musty second-hand stores –

this becomes a silent statement

mouthed in barbaric whispers,

“Yes, I have been here.

I have worn this pain.

I still wear it,

and I am one of you.”

#darkpoetsclub