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angela brown - scissors, rock, paper كلمات الأغنية

for little girls who believed in paper dolls were paper machetes made up of flat match boxes
and broken dreams that turned out to be dusty ashes of poetry we read and write from painful memories of the forgotten pastors of pastimes. this one’s for you
you were too young and never knew what you were worth. you are more than words could meaningfully say. you were forced to grow up like two fast fireb-lls traveling at warp speed at a distance and his hands threw back aiming at the heart at rate of five fists as he hits you, so hard it hurt, but you were afraid of him beating you, with his fist like you are afraid of paper cuts, and so, you sat still as he told you and from all the drama, you obeyed him as you wept sad tears of hurt, pain and regret
you closed your eyes so tight, to pretend he’s not there, but the memories of his touch were to outspoken to forgive
paper covers rock
his hands were as cold as he timidly presses your face against his body, pointed at your lips and all you could do is pray that you will be able to live one more day, hoping to escape the madness, hoping that he would go way
tears are flowing from your eyes that covers the marks of black mascara painted on your face like a black moth burning in a fire
scissors cut paper
you never wanted this to happen
the memories of scent his body sweat, cold and tepid, reminded you of ice melting in the snow before it touched the ground as he forced your legs apart like a sharp knife pearcing at your heart as he forced entry inside of you
your body felt pale and frail and you wanted to scream, “no!” but it did not stop the abuse from happening. it could not stop the intrusion from eating at your flesh. the pain was so intense it was ripping at your heart like a sharp knife slicing a tomato. your innocence never welcomed madness. not like this. he overstayed his visit
rock smashed scissors
and everything stops as he proceeds you show no emotions and your life is beyond reason, and your youth slowly dies, at the point of no return, as you lose your virtue you lose all faith and trust that he once promised you that paper dolls were made to become machetes, but it turned out to be for dreamers to never see love again

- angela brown

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