The Cut Poem by courtney metcalf

I was in such a deep sleep, when I woke from a scream, echoing from the bathroom, realizing this wasn't still my dream. Foot steps thudding against the hallway floor, and there she was running, as she appeared at my door. A rag over her wrist, tears were streaming down her face, she pleaded for help. Said she was 'sorry', 'it was a mistake'. I turn on the light, take a look at the gash. Sure enough, her wrist was sliced wide open and I saw the tenden still in tact. I told her it would be okay, as I tied off her arm. I took her to the ER, told them it was an act of self-harm. She didn't slit her vain, she just wanted to bleed away the pain. They stitched up her wrist, but it didn't fix her broken heart. It wouldn't bring him back to her. She felt stupid as soon as she did it, stupid from the start. I hold her in my arms, saying he wasn't worth it. When really, no guy in the world would have been, she was too perfect.