The Crimson Shame

I sit there in silence
Only hearing my heartbeat.
I look for a familiar object
That silver I know so well.
I examine the dry marks
Remembering each time.
Once again I raise it up
And lower it to the skin.
I have no words left
As I watch the mark being made.
I smile at the crimson liquid
Knowing this all too well.
No one ever knows
No one ever cares.
The memories flash through
The reasons I continue.
I feel the shame
But not the pain.
A drop falls to the floor
As darkness overtakes me.