She sits in the corner cluthcing her steel bladed possession
She has found no other substitute for this act of trangression
This everyday ritual is now an obsession
Why she can't stop remains an unanswered question.

A smile on her face as crimson tears paint the wooden floor
As she once again lies to herself, whispering "Just one more"
This after school act has now become a war
The enemy, a secret, hidden in the back of her bedroom drawer.

As she sits in silence the rain begins to fall
Voices calling out to her as the world begins to stall
She leans her sleepy head against the wailing wall
Yet, surprising as it seems, it does not hurt her at all.

"I know I can stop" she tells herself once again
Picking up the steel secret; her beloved and true friend
Throwing it at the mirror across from where she stands
She stares at her reflection and sits down on the bed.

"This blade is not an addiction," to herself she silently proclaims
But deep down she knows its not the truth its herself she has to blame
She picks up a solo candle and blows out the dying flame
Gets ready for tomorrow, a ritual of the same.