snip.

the silver sound of the scissors slid through the air
cutting
severing that one thought
slicing out that one little part
she most wanted to forget

cold and sharp, the blades made a metallic
singing noise as they slowly closed.
a ringing
that sang of their keen edges meeting
and the quick clip as they lay together
side by side
their work done.

one event, one word, one face
one smell, one memory, one thought
swirling around her head
and bouncing off the back of her skull
reverberating painfully in her consciousness.

snip*

and it was gone.