Five Red Lines Poem by Brit Lloyd

She takes a deep breath,
closes her eyes.
She count's to ten,
tries not to cry.
She counts again,
then she gives in.
Finds the box,
and digs down deep.
Sifting through birthday cards and bracelets,
she finds her prize.
Sitting there,
under everything,
lies a razor
blade exposed.
Once again
she breathes in
counts again.
She takes her prize.
Staring down the blade.
Contemplating
Wishing
Wondering
Hoping
Shaking.
Her decision is made
She takes the blade
draws a line.
Five clean red lines
the deed is done.
She heads for the bathroom
cleans her would well.
Pulls down her sleeves
and hopes to God
that no one sees.