The cold icy blade,
running across my skin,
Sending chills down my spine.
Crimson blood running down my wrist,
Dripping down drop kwa drop to the sink below me.
I feel calm, and in control.
The devil inside me has taken my soul.
The blade doing it's job one time, two times, three and more.
My vision goes blurry, the room goes dark, my moyo pounds faster.
I wake up the inayofuata siku groggy, confused.
People pounding on the bathroom door.
My brain pounding in my head.
I put on my best face,
Because they can't know,
They won't know.
I'll find an excuse, for everything.
And their world will be fine.
No matter if mine is a living hell.
they'll never know. Until it's to late.