With the knife in my hands, I tremble, fully aware of what I shouldn't do.
My trembling hand rolls up the sleeve of my sweatshirt.
My hate filled eyes fix upon the fresh scars of terror.
The blade touches my skin, I press a little harder.
I slice the knife still trembling because it might be too much.
I keep slashing until one begins to drip.
It's like I'm a junkie with dope.
My hands stop trembling.
I catch my breath and the world and I spin together again.
As soon as I see red I'm back where I need to be.
Calm enough to crush my pills and snort the powder into my nose.
Then the world shuts off, one light at a time.
Before I can realize, it's midnight everywhere and I'm no where to be seen.