White lines create hazy streaks on dark clothes
smudging them with crystal translucent powder
striking contrast, too heavenly to be ignored
I find myself drawn to them: tantalized
But the sane and sober me should have realized
those lines cut deeply
crooked blades that defile and ravage
though no evidence is left behind on pale skin
but that evidence runs rampant within!
shocking my heart, my brain, my soul,
reaching its searching fingers into the deepest crevices
ghostly appendages foreign, unseen to the human eye
but everyone around is watching me DIE!
and they sit back mellowed, they giggle, they snort
I join them oblivious to the end of the story
we’re all inching into our graves, though our eyes remain glazed and starry
I’ll never get to tell my family and friends how much I’m sorry.
By: Amanda Katrina Gibb
