To be sullen and stoic,

Incessant adrenaline pounding, lethal and atomic.

Never ending loathing towards myself as I lifted the blade,

And carved artful lacerations across the veins, refusing attempts of aide.

My light footsteps rebounded deafeningly through the empty halls.

I had painstakingly cleansed the blood from the stalls.

My wrists were enshrouded and bounded tightly.

But somehow you knew, and asked lightly.

My reply, "I'm fine."

With my strained movements and sunken eyes, the words didn't align.

Despite my iterated lies,

I hoped you could read my eyes.