I had the blade in my hand
waiting for my life to end.
I had already given up
so what was one more cut?
One more cut along my wrist,
down my leg,
or across my ribs.
I could barely feel it anymore
my body was already tired and worn.
Just one more cut would do the trick
they all felt like needle pricks,
except this one,
this one felt like it weighed a hundred tons.
The blade shifted in my hands
and tore through all the dirty bands
that covered the lines that marked up my wrists.
My head grew heavy
my feet slid across the floor
someone was banging on the bathroom door.
Blood dripped on the ground
and all the sound faded out.
Because I was a coward
I got to live another day,
and that was the sign it was time to change.
I packed away the blade,
the bandages,
and the first aid.
They will never see the light of day.