I walk a thin line,
Drawn by a razor sharp blade,
It’s the color of relief
In a shade known as pain,
This very thin line
It’s what keeps me from going insane,
Reminding me of the air in my lungs,
And the blood in my veins.

I see this thin line,
Of both love and hate,
A disapproval of my heartbeat
But a passion for the pain,
The line whispers to me,
Telling me not to stop,
Reminding me of my worthlessness.

I feel these thin lines,
On my wrists,
On my thighs
Tucked away behind clothing
To keep they’re secrets from growing.
They raise up and slowly disappear,
But never forever,
Because they will always be there
To remind me of the truth.

I hear these thin lines,
Telling me whispers of lies,
Never letting me forget
That I’m ugly and fat.
They remind me of my stories.
The horrors and glories,
They won’t go away
They’re stuck in my head.
Please help me escape,
I fear I will end up dead.

I am finally free from the thin lines,
Free from their whispers,
And free from their cries.
I can see it now,
I can see the light
Telling me it’s all right,
That I’m no longer enslaved
By their beautiful lies.

I have finally disappeared,
Along with those thin lines.