Self harm

They warned us about the

Lines of white powder

One would inhale through

Their blood ridden noses,

But they never warned us about

The monsters lurking in the

Darkness of our own minds.

In one swift motion, I slice

The skin on my wrist with

A jagged piece of glass, watching,

waiting for the line of blood

To form in the crease of my

Teared skin.

I have found my release.