Poem: Safety Scissors

Masking tape marks the boundary
Yellowed cream on brown carpet
I decorated it with felt-tip
Badly.

This line draws the battle lines:
This line you will not cross
This line I will defend with fists and feet
Claws and teeth.

Your bit is bigger.
The rest of the room
– demilitarised, lego-strewn –
Is larger still.
I’ve left you all that.
I’m being the reasonable one
And if you step over my line:
I will kill you.

When we fight: I don’t feel the blows.
My only thought, every time
Is frustration
That I do not have the strength
To inflict the damage I want.

If I were strong enough:
I would tear out hair and scalp
Bite out chunks of flesh
I would hobble you, humble you.
If I were strong enough
You’d finally see:
I am one to be feared.

But my only thought, every time
Is frustration

I am plastic safety scissors
When I want to be a sword
I am plastic safety scissors when I want to be a sword.
I am plastic safety scissors when I want to be a sword.
I need to be, I need to be, I need to be a sword.

If I were loud enough:
I would shout you down.
Tantrum, tick or TV
If you talked over me:
I would shriek sonic boom
‘Til you whimpered and ran.

If I were bold enough: 
I wouldn’t care
About their disapproval;
That I am the normal one
That I should know better.
An ounce less self-respect
And I could match you:
I would yell and hit and get away with it
Like you do.
It’s only fair.
Anyway, you’re older.

If I were powerful enough:
I would have high walls built
Of solid granite.
Nothing less than a system
Of space-age airlocks
And medieval drawbridges
To decide who can come in
And who is kept out.

But masking tape marks the boundary
Yellowed cream on brown carpet
I decorated it with felt-tip
Badly.

This line draws the battle lines
This line you will not cross
This line I will defend with fists and feet
Claws and teeth.

The cat’s allowed in.
I like her.
Anyway, she’s a girl.
No boys allowed. 

See this poem performed

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