Every second drains me, Each moment becomes more and more painful, Harder and harder to bare, Tears begin to swell in the bottom of my eyes, Time’s almost up then I can leave. Something is in my pocket. Quickly I dart out the back entrance, no one notices. Almost crying and almost running through an empty soccer field, I make my way without even trying, The field seems to stretch on and on forever, Or it seems that way, I see the park, I am there. The swings were always my favorite. The hinges start to screech because no one ever oils them. I can hear them now, The hinges, The hinges that screech and call my name, call me over to them, I go. I sit. I don’t swing. Something sits at the bottom of my pocket. Sharp. Smooth. Silver. Now I can no longer hold back the tears, They seem to all just pour out at once. With nearly no effort at all I brush it against my skin. Cold. Lovely. A small stream of red bubbles up from the spot. Slowly growing and then falling down my arm. No Pain. It feels so good. I want more. I want to die. More pressure on my skin, More Red, And more smudgy black tears fall down my face. Losing consciousness, Dizzy, Everything goes blurry, Black Out, Pass Out. Puddling away at the base of me are deep lakes forming and bleeding away. Footsteps. Someone coming but I don’t know who, I lay on the ground helpless, He comes closer; I don’t see his face though. Everything is black, but I can feel him. I can feel his arms reach down to lift me up. Lift me up and away. I didn’t sense danger and I wanted to die anyway. He brings me into a room, The park bathroom I think. Now almost every sense has been taken from my body. I feel dead, Almost. But then I felt something else, the blood stopped draining from my wrists. He fixed me. I gain my hearing. His footsteps echo over to the door, Still blind I hear him say, “Next time just remember that I care, Even if no one else does” Not much later I am alone. Awake. And not afraid to die. |