J. Villanueva

A utility tool with a small, flat piece of metal with a very sharp edge.

—after Frank X Walker

She was done with the corps before I,

spring loaded razor edge, lacerated her arm 

up and down. Hands bleeding, she pushed down on me

retracted cold metal that cut her career away.

Slashed dreams and severed friendships,

I gave her the option to change her life.

Even when she put me down and doubted me, I had 

given her what she needed more than anyone else could.

Not fake friends, not ones who said they cared,

not a useless command too shocked to react,

and definitely not the corps—the organization

who prides itself as comprised of the best of the best.

Could release her soft skin from the night terrors,

the crying and scrubbing in cold showers, the marks—

handprints that the captain gave her that continued

to appear everytime she looked in the mirror.