I don't know why,
but for some odd reason
there are pools of water
that want to be released,
but I refuse.
Because, if I give in-
If I let them flow-
then they won't stop,
and I'll be forced to give myself real pain
A sting of a blade,
flitting across pale skin.
A lovely scarlet color
dripping from within.
I'd have something real to cry about.
That's all I want: something real.