Primitive Etchings

Stranger rhymed with danger
Knowing nothing would change her
I chose to let her be
Just a stranger to me
Didn’t see her in years
Then out of nowhere
I wake up to find
Her body next to mine
The thin scars on her arms
Shows me how she’s been
The most primitive of etchings
In an algebra of skin
If all her prayers are heard
The past will fade away
But it is not for heaven
But for destruction that she prays
So, what are you little princess?
Monster, victim or witness?
Will I ever know
What made you loose hope
Your body’s broke, and you can’t mend it
Your life is over, but you can’t end it
Being two
Won’t rescue you
The thin scars on her arms
Shows me how she’s been
The most primitive of etchings
In an algebra of skin
If all her prayers are heard
The past will fade away
But it is not for heaven
But for destruction that she prays