Here's how I envisioned modern poetry in cutting will be like:
I
She cut
again and again
until there was nothing left in her.
II
Freedom came
at a cost for her.
Freedom came
at the end of her.
III
As the red stained white,
her eyes gleamed in the dark.
It was time.
The candle blows out.
IV
The knife falls and
catches itself on her skin,
painting it red
on the nude shades of peace.
V
Breathe
pumping heart,
breathe!
VI
The girl smiles
with no hesitation ever.
"You're beautiful."
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