Long, thick sleeves,
pulled all the way over my hands,
in the dead heat of August

Forcing light into my eyes,
so that my fake smile doesn't look
completely dead

The knot in my chest when I shower,
because the hot water stinging my cuts
is a cruel reminder of my pain

Words, written on a paper,
kept in my desk drawer -- secret -- because I have
no one to tell

Hands shaking, as I drag the blade across my flesh,
because pain is the only thing
I can feel anymore

Do you still think I just want attention?