The Scissor's Secret

The blood seeps from your hand and others rush to help you.
I can't tear my eyes away from the wound.
The animal inside me awakens and I run.
The teacher looks up and sees me leaving.
Thinking I'm sick he just lets me go.
I sprint to the bathroom and turn the faucet.
But in the water, all I can see is blood.
A horrible hunger arises within me.
Photos of scarlet gore paint my vision.
I curl up on the cold floor and hold tightly.
I can't close my eyes.
All I see is your hand.
The blood from the scissors running down your thin wrists.
Dripping from your cupped hand to the desk.
Forming small pools on your homework.
Your shocked face only adds to it.
This hunger clinches at me angrily.
I curse it down and start to shake.
Faint footsteps pass the bathroom.
Hurrying to the rescue of your veins.
I fight to gain control and am losing.
A young girl comes into the bathroom.
She sees me shaking, curled on the floor.
She runs to my side and kneels down asking what is wrong.
Her dainty hand comes to rest on my knee.
Her slender neck is inches from me.
Her creamy skin whispers quietly.
And I run.