Litte Red.

This is anything but a fairytale...

Inside this little black box, isn't a ring.
Its isn't a key to a new boat or car.
Inside this little black box is a razor.
This razor has been with me through thick and thin.
It has never let me down once.
Its more than I can say for my friends.

Friends are unreliable.
At least mine are.
All of them left for stupid reasons.
Now i'm all alone with my little black box.
And don't forget, the razor within it.

It comforts me when I'm scared or alone.
It hugs me with its cold steel, and leaves me feeling better.
It is a true friend to me.

But everyone keeps trying to separate us.
It's bad for me, and might kill me.
Not like friends ever did that, oh no.
The abuse of being torn back and forth doesn't count.
The heartbreak after losing one because you did something wrong.

Inside me is hell with friends.
But my body takes the new friendship with the razor.
Because I'm broken inside.
I just can't fix myself.

So inside this little black soul is little hurt me.

And inside the little black box is a little red razor.

Reviews

[anne p. murray- LadeeAn..]

I'm filled with angst as I read this poignant piece. I remember using a razor once when I was at the bottom; afraid to get back up, afraid I couldn't get back up. But I found I had strength I didn't know was there; had to prove to all the e F*^^%$ bad guys, I was stronger and better then they were