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