They Only See What I Show Them....

My head shrieks against the cold metal of the bathroom stall,
my lungs cry out in a harsh protest against the deep sobbing.
My fingers searching, wanting something to hold,
as they flail against the wall, raking into the concrete.
I clench my teeth, until the muscle spasms
and my jaw feels like it will break in two.
I squeeze my hand together, form a ball around the blade.
It digs into my skin, and it feel the sickly separation.
I feel the blood, draining from the wound.
I hot, prickly hatred rushes over my body,
flood my pores, and every single cell of my being.
I try to control myself,
I fight against the impulse,
to rip her pretty little throat out.
Running through my mind,
I play out the scene...
How the crimson trails look so good against she snow white skin.
How her teeth will look when she is screaming,
How her body spasms before she dies.
I walk out of the stall, and clutch at the sink,
looking the demon face to face in the mirror,
daring it.
Muscles relax, and I splash some water on my face,
and walk confidently out into the hallway, and say hi!
To some of my bubbly blonde friends.
They know only what they see...
And what I tell them..