The Flirt
She flirts with disaster
she flirts with despair
she flirts with the loss of all hope and all prayer
she flirts with red lines on the tip of a knife
she flirts with the loss of all hope for a life
She stands with the wrong man
she stands with the lost
she stands for mistreatment, whatever the cost
She stands for the faithless
she stands for the past
she stands on the edge of a small shard of glass
She thrives on the vision
she thrives on the pain
she thrives on destruction of self for no gain
She strives for the answer
she strives for some hope
she strives for some insight on just how to cope
She's blind to all reason
She's blind to herself
She's blind to the way she's put life on the shelf
She's blind to the way she's been showered with love
The world's only angel, sent from heaven above
Copryright ME 2003
I wrote this for yet another friend of Jamie's. Like so many, she was (is?) a cutter. Like so many, she doesn't see her own worth, because it has been distorted by the value others have failed to put in her. Unfortunately, I know several self-injurers both in "real life" and online, and one thing they all seem to have in common (besides being female), is genuine self-hatred, and a fatalistic attitude. The problem is, no matter how much you try to show them love, and show them that they are valuable and wonderful and worth something, whatever seed that has been planted in their head that they are worthless, is buried too deeply to dig out. I wish there was a way to get through to them, because every one of them that I've met are wonderful women, full of passion and love and beauty. I can see it; why can't they?
