Sanity

There's always that one kid in class. Laughing and waving his arms, "You took my pencil I'm going to kill myself" His mocking echo's around the room. Little does he know the quiet kid in the back, Is thinking the same thing. The kid is whispering all the evil things, That he hates about himself. Every time his whispers hit his skin, They cut deeper than the razor in his pocket. All he wants is for someone to look at him and say, "Every things going to be okay" Even when he knows it not. He wants some one to notice. How he never smiles or talks, Or maybe ask "Why don't you have any friends?" "Want to be mine?" But all he has is heads turned away and that kid in class who lost his pencil. That kid may have lost his pencil, But slowly the kid in the back. Is losing his sanity. Bit by bit, word by word, glance by glance. It's slipping from his grasp and it's not as easy to get back, As a pencil. Head down, eyes closed. When the pain rips through his veins and bubbles out through kisses from a razor, He will have his sanity.