Tell Me Why

a cool sliver of glass rests on my skin
i stare down at the brilliant gleam
stale tears rest in my eyes
distorting my vision
i press down heavily on my white skin
feeling the twinge of a familiar pain
i slowly, carefully slide the blade down
across my skin, my eyes closed
it tugs before giving way
gliding gracefully through
i hold up the glass in a pause
looking at the damage
a beautiful red line appears
breathing in deeply i angle the shard to the side
cautiously i lay it down
my insides are shaking
and i dont want to do this
but i do
without thinking i shove down harder than before
and swiftly slash my skin
making a skinny red X
i hold my breath
and prepare my weapon a third time
this time its easier
its deeper still, and faster
quickly i inflict 4 more wounds
until a satisfying cluster of bloody lines
screams out chaos and pain and strength
the blood from each blend together
into a dazzling splatter of ruby red puddles
i stay and admire the fruits of my labor
only long enough for it to dry
i hope that it will leave intertwining scars
but i dont want the scars
i dont want proof
but i want the souvenir
then i make myself a bandage
hide it with clothes, wipe away my tears
and the smudges of mascara
because im better now