She had been cutting little colored squares off the magazine for hours. But
still, the collage was not done. The radio played a known song lightly, but
she didn't register the lyrics.
*Running away girl but nobody's behind you*
Tiny scraps of glossed paper were scattered all over her desk. In the
middle, a large piece of paper with a figure in the middle.
*You've made an enemy out of yourself*
She puts the scissors down and starts collecting the residue left behind,
suddenly an idea strikes her head and she grabs the scissors back.
*There is no use in denying, you want to keep running *
Chopping away at her hair, dark lumps fall onto the ground.
*Why bend the rules when you can trespass them? *
Until she feels the uneven ends touch her bare shoulders, and then she
bends to pick up the mess.
*Trying to find what girl? Running away again she goes*
Then thinks, well why not, and goes down for some coffee.
*Running away, away, away trying to change the image every day*
Left in the desk, the untouched collage. A picture of herself, but in the
image, she is cutting her wrists.
*Running away from the conventional enemy that you've become to yourself*
The song fades out, and dies. The station crackles, and the radio turns