You feel pain

Look at your arm in what is almost surprise

A line is etched on your arm

You know that in a few moments

A couple of crimson red droplets will sit there

They will look serene

Perfect

Beautiful

Dangerous

You don’t understand how they will smear

And how when you touch them

The tips of your fingers will come away stained

In deep red-brown

Don’t worry

The wound isn’t real

It never was

It was as unreal as those thoughts

You know, those thoughts

You know them well

Doesn’t everyone?

I can see it

That slight flicker in your eye

It betrays you

Anyway, those thoughts

The ones you whisper to yourself in the middle of the night

When the only light is the blue glow of the play button on your CD player

The ones you scream when there’s no one around to hear

And thanks to the windows in your room, you’ve never felt so vulnerable

See?

The wound isn’t real

It never was

It was as unreal as those thoughts