Drawing Lines

It's nighttime now...

the sun has said its goodbyes

and disappeared beneath the ground

now...

as the moon rises in a coal-black sky

and the beauty of the stars

is blurred by the water in my eyes

I lay here...

with tears running down my face

my breathing ragged

as I try to calm my racing thoughts

and battle the tsunami inside

carrying monsters

with all-too-familiar names...

depression

anxiety

self-hatred

low esteem

guilt

shame...

telling me lie after lie

but like the idiot i am

i listen...

you're ugly

no one likes you

you're weird

you'll never fit in

you're not good enough

you're not perfect enough

you're not pretty enough

you're not smart enough

you're not tall enough

you're not girly enough

you're not cool enough

you're not enough...

enough...

enough...

...

...

ENOUGH!

I can't take it!

it's too much for me!

can't you understand?

this is the only way...

this is all I know..

when the pain inside is too great

I grab my paintbrush of destruction...

and I start drawing lines...

short lines

long lines

deep lines

shallow lines

straight lines

jagged lines

line...

after line...

after line...

until I can breathe again

and just sit

and calmly watch

as the lines begin to bleed

spilling dark, ruby-red ink

MY ruby-red ink...

all over the bedsheets...

and I think:

What a beautiful masterpiece...

as my tired eyes begin to close...

and I finally drift off to sleep...