I had a supremely wierd and violent dream (so this hasn't actually happened to me, just to let y'all know) and this is all I could remember, apparently I write poetry when I'm sleeping too!

Line

There is a line

The line that he drew

The line that separates me from other people

Drawn by cold steel

Across my neck

To keep me still

It’s there, still

A constant reminder

Of a weakness never to be forgiven

Red as the day it was made

Pain stings and scars

As eyes stare and wonder

At the line

The line he drew

That separates me from them