Scissors

cut off my hair.

 

cut off everything I hate about this flesh.

steal away this broken soul.

 

your blades aren't nearly sharp enough for that.

 

Laughter will take away the pain.

 

You. You'll steal away this broken soul.

 

Hold it in your pocket, for later, maybe a memory, maybe a good laugh in a few years, now there is no turning back.

I don't want it...it's yours now, do with it what you wish. sing to it, dance with it...but that soul, that deeply painful soul is gone and I want no part of it.

   Alright? Is that clear. I'm new, I'm whole and that is not a part of me any longer. 

 

Does he want a piece of this? He want's to cut off a chunk for his collection of broken souls, the one he keep's on his shelf above the mantle, the one's he shows off to all his friends

 

well f**k him.

 

He get's nothing... not this time