Secrets

Lying on the floor, Blood splattering the tile; I’ll be fine, she thought, I’ll just lay here a while. She glanced at her arms, Usually porcelain white; They were lined with red, The marks made by her knife. She’d lie there in tears, Wishing to turn back the time; Almost eleven months clean, Sliced away in one night. She slowly got herself up, Reached for the bathroom drawer, Retrieved the familiar supplies, And fell back to the floor. Just like the past, She wrapped her arms tight; She cleaned the blood off the floor, To keep the secret of that night. She put on her jacket, Long sleeves hiding her scars; She put the knife back in hiding, Until she’d use it tomorrow. She quietly left, Went on with her day; And, this cycle repeated, Until her secret took her away.