I breathe in air,

Hold it in,

Let it out,

And cut my skin.

This process,

Repeated,

Over and Over,

Until the pain is no more.

The place I used to call

"Home"

Is now a trap set by

The Devil Himself.

The abuse,

The screams,

The pain,

I have my own personal hell.

School is no less than a

Dungeon.

But, instead of all of us being "prisoners",

There are "guards" too, to hurt me in case I step out of line.

The "guards" take all their

Anger out on

Me.

… Why is that?

All their words, they torment my dreams.

I am blinded by thoughts,

One shouldn't think.

To release the pressure of the world around me,

I breathe in air,

Hold it in,

Let it out,

And cut my skin.