The sheets are not made
The bathroom door is shut
My hands turn to painkillers
As they cut and clean myself
I feel the sting of words
I feel them pulling my heart
The mind feels alone
Despite the social surrounding
This is not a ******* joke
There is no levity in the choke
The bathroom turns red
And my blood sends this message
Oct 1, 2017
Oct 1, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC
The sheets are not made
The bathroom door is shut
My hands turn to painkillers
As they cut and clean myself
I feel the sting of words
I feel them pulling my heart
The mind feels alone
Despite the social surrounding
This is not a ******* joke
There is no levity in the choke
The bathroom turns red
And my blood sends this message
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