Rachel Ann Grant
Storms From Inside
Crouched alone in the darkness of the bathroom,
A stormy, wet night filled with a frightening gloom,
Silence envelopes me as i sit in fear,
Eyes glazed over release a flaming tear.
The crisp, steel blade penetrates my wrist,
Ceeping across, ending with a twist,
Veins pulsing now, ready to burst,
Again I cut, deeper than the first.
The crimsom, fiery blood engulfs my arm whole,
Extensive blood loss begins to take its toll,
Blood seeps out and drips down the drain,
A slight tingle, but no real pain.
Fists clenched tight I scream with hate,...