Small piece of glass
As my art utensil
It shines in the light
Sharp edges on the end
I run my fingers on it
My heart beating so fast
I softly sign
Putting it down
But it doesn't work
Yet i pick it again
Tightly hold it
Rubbing it among
My soft skin
A tear escapes
But i completely ignore it
Tv is on very loud
To muffle my soft cries
Skin met glass
Glass kiss skin
I see a little blood
My hands are shaking
Still holding the glass
Its just simply happened
But it felt a little to good
I hide the glass away
