Stained Red Lies

The bright red numbers cut through the darkness

2:34, they read

A lonely child lies awake

“Don’t do it,” the text cries

“I won’t care; I’m just pretending,” is all they get

The knife is yelling like a mad man

“I hate you,” they whisper.

Finally the knife gets his wish

Three o’clock sees the first wave of blood.

One cut, two cut, three

Better stop before they find me.

The sky outside turns red

The floor underneath gets stained

Thud.

The knife is on the ground

It’s silent now.

“Never again,” is mumbled.

The knife chuckles as it’s put back

A jacket to cover it

An array of lies to justify it.