Cutting
The feeling of the cool blade dragging
  Against your skin
Feeling the crimson flow from your veins
Knowing that this would break your families heart
But you don't care
All you care about is making the pain go away
But you aren't thinking

You're too high on death
To wonder how this might affect your best friend
Who doesn't stand as tall as she did before
Your teacher
Who is afraid to criticize anyone
For fear of what they might do to themselves
Your father
Who tries to drink his feelings away
And your mother
Who doesn't have anyone to comfort
  when they're sick
Or heartbroken

All you know
Is the sharp razor
Splitting your skin

But then you remember
Your best friend
Who stands tall and offers to dye your hair
Your teacher
Who criticizes you to help you get better
Your father
Who never hesitates to take you to the movies
And your mother
Who fed you tea and handed you tissues
When you were sick
Or heartbroken

You grab the bandages and
   Quickly cover your wrist
Staining the white with thin lines of red
And you wonder how you could've managed
To
  
     Sink
          
              This
                 
                      Low