Alcohol, knives, and suicide.

I'll take a drink from the bottle,
at lunch and in the class,
though my eyes are distant,
no teacher ever asks.

Slowly I get my woodcut tools,
and carve patterns on my wrists,
the drugs I get from both of these,
slip me into bliss.

My teachers can all walk past me,
without ever knowing a thing,
that I'll cut too see the blood,
and drink anything.

Alcohol causes depression,
but I was screwed up before,
so once class is out I'll still drink and cut,
then fall down another floor.

My case is close at the Psyche ward,
but it's started again,
cutting as if there was no tomorrow,
and steaming like a train.

My alcoholism causes seizures,
and has nearly made me die,
and I don't care because I'm barely aware,
I'm too drugged up on drink, knives and suicide.