My habit

A blade at my wrists I'm in darkness,
Alone in silence facing my worst habit,
My deepest secret screaming inside me,
As the first touch of metal slices into my soul.

Droplets of blood cry from the first wound,
Dark red tears taking the place of ones crystal clear,
These scars can be hidden by a sleeve rough with shame,
Cheeks damp and red are for the world to see.

No one need cry for me now, this blade draws the pain from me,
Although behind this smile a thousand lies hide,
My heart torn by my secret craving for a prison cell,
And my need to have these wings so I can fly.