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She hated those little snaps;
the sigh of do-not-talk-to-me;
those judgmental looks of just-leave-me-alone-already-you-are-pissing-me-off-you-are-annoying-just-stop-already;
a little rant about how-do-you-not-know-you-should-know-you-are-supposed-to-know-you-were-supposed-to-(bring-that-back)-(know-that-name)-(do-that-thing)-(just-get-the-fuck-out-of-my-face).

She was hearing scissors non-stop in her brain;

*snap-snap-snap*

*snap-snap-snap*

*snap*

She would forget some;
the mosquito bites;
she would know the others ten years later;
still letting her get hurt; a ten-year-old sigh-look-rant was all it took;
to make her cry;
hate;
feel the anger burning inside her;
it didn't fade;

she never laughed.
©2009 ~MaryAuksi
:iconmaryauksi:

Author's Comments

She could hear the sound of scissors cutting the paper into tiny little pieces.

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