Drawing LInes

It's nighttime now...
the sun has said its goodbyes
and disappeared beneath the ground
now...
as the moon rises in a coal-black sky
and the beauty of the stars
is blurred by the water in my eyes
I lay here...
with tears running down my face
my breathing ragged
as I try to calm my racing thoughts
and battle the tsunami inside
carrying monsters
with all-too-familiar names...
depression
anxiety
self-hatred
low esteem
guilt
shame...
telling me lie after lie
but like the idiot i am
i listen...
you're ugly
no one likes you
you're weird
you'll never fit in
you're not good enough
you're not perfect enough
you're not pretty enough
you're not smart enough
you're not tall enough
you're not girly enough
you're not cool enough
you're not enough...
enough...
enough...
...
...
ENOUGH!
I can't take it!
it's too much for me!
can't you understand?
this is the only way...
this is all I know..
when the pain inside is too great
I grab my paintbrush of destruction...
and I start drawing lines...
short lines
long lines
deep lines
shallow lines
straight lines
jagged lines
line...
after line...
after line...
until I can breathe again
and just sit
and calmly watch
as the lines begin to bleed
spilling dark, ruby-red ink
MY ruby-red ink...
all over the bedsheets...
and I think:
What a beautiful masterpiece...
as my tired eyes begin to close...
and I finally drift off to sleep...