She sits in a worn down, black chair
With a knife in her hand
There is a bowl in front of her
Just a plain earthenware bowl
Sitting directly across from her is another girl about the same age
She stares
And the girl stares back
She blinks
So does she because
The other girl is just a reflection of herself
She raises the blade
Still staring at her luminescent reflecton
She is ready to strike
To spill the ruby red drops of her life on to the hard brown wood of the table
But then she takes a closer look into the the mirror
And sees a small seed of strength
Inside of her warm grey eyes
She realizes at that she doesnt need this
She can work through this
Without
The
Cut