All Those Knives Turning Inward

You see your pretty face crumbling away. You're a beautiful girl with knives for hands. You're just a beautiful girl with knives, and no one has ever found that beautiful about you. God, they're missing so much. All those knives turning inward with no place else to go - years and years of that, and still no one sees you. Eventually you start to feel like this is the beauty you can offer: I can be sliced to pieces but my mask never falters. There can be a knife in there right now, buried in the tissue, stabbing, stabbing away and no one will find you beautiful for that either. But they'll like the way you keep it quiet and attend to them. 

I'm talking bout blood, babe. Isn't it interesting, that alliteration that's just waiting to happen: blood, babe, bloom. Makes bloom sound like a command, the way it always is for us when we're young. Spotlight on you: bleed, babe. Bloom, babe. 

Everyone's a liar. That's what empaths know. How we reconcile that is where the knives come in. Lack of coherence. Everyone saying they're fine when they're so clearly not, and bang -- we're Edward Scissorhands. Because we can't stop knowing what we know and there's nothing else to do. 

Will my body forgive me? Please, body, forgive me. I'm sorry for that sharp transgression. I'm sorry for my weakness and the proximity of that steel. I can feel your anger. I hear it, I just don't know what to do with it. I'm frightened of it. You know that, right? I spend all my energy trying to supplicate to you. I know you're a scared kid, that that's where it all comes from, but you're a taskmaster too, and I don't know what you want from me.

🎧 Bring This Prompt into Your Own Body

The essay you just read began as a prompt inside the Body Writers Circle. We take our prompts from song lyrics and write whatever our bodies want to say. If your own body feels full or unsafe to exist in today, I invite you to try this gentle Body Writing™ practice:

Set the Mood: 

Get cozy, plug in headphones and sink into this week's featured song on Spotify.

Listen:

Close your eyes. Don't worry about the lyrics or what they mean intellectually. Just notice how the rhythm, melody and vibe affect your body. What do you feel opening up and coming forward?

Write:

Open your journal and write the opening lyric (You see your pretty face crumbling away...) at the top of your page. Don't try to match my writing; just notice: what does it bring up for you? What does it make your body want to say? Write for three pages – without editing, censoring yourself or trying to make your writing "good."

Why Journaling Alone Is Only the First Step

While practicing this alone can bring beautiful moments of connection and relief, trying to navigate your deepest, most intense stories alone is a big ask for a sensitive nervous system. When you're the only one holding the pen and the space, your inner critic takes charge easily, causing you to freeze up or pull back before finding the deeper medicine.

True somatic resolution requires co-regulation.

Which is why doing this work inside an ultra-intimate, zero-critique group of just 5 to 6 women changes everything. In the Body Writers Circle, you don't carry emotional weight by yourself. The shared presence of our tiny, trusted community holds space for you – allowing you to feel safe venturing into the depths your body needs without freezing or flooding.

If you feel a quiet, resonant yes to this, you belong with us. 

A new, founding member circle is opening soon. (June 2026)

Add your name to the waitlist here, for first access to a space. 💗