POEM--- Cut My Wrist

I'm a bad girl

When I was 4

I played with my father

In a secret place.

Mother wasn't supposed to know.

Daddy and I had fun.

We played and played

Till he accidentally

Hurt me.

Then we stopped

And I never played again.

Because I had a secret

And I was bad.

My dad was clean;

I was the dirty one.

So every day I play

Cut my wrist.

It's just a game

I play with myself

Reminding me

Who's the guilty one.