My palms started to sweat,
And I fumbled my blade,
Dropping it into the steaming water.
Taking deep breaths,
I calmed myself,
And pressed it to my thighs.
I kept digging,
Listening to my flesh tear,
And slipped and fell in my own blood.
A hundred and twenty cuts later,
My head began to swim.
I passed out on the floor,
Behind a locked door.
Three hours later,
I woke up.
I was still covered in blood,
And my blade was still in my hand,
I just wish it would have worked,
Because mopping up all this blood,
Is making me sick.
-M.L