Tendrils of black embrace my vision,
Like branches splintering through;
My eyes blink rapidly in response,
Yet they remain no matter what I do.

My hands tear at my face's canvas,
Which is long-stained with tears;
Recently, blood has intermingled with them,
A result of my fears.

I'm wiping away the moisture,
So they won't see my pain.
But my skin is coming off in my hands,
Like a thick, ****** rain.

It's impossible to hide it longer,
It has consumed me so;
The next person to glance at me,
Will instantly know.