Insane

I walk in circles,
In this dimly lit room.
A knife, my closest friend, in hand.

The blood running down my arm,
forms a puddle in the palm of my hand.
The warmth comforting me.

I whisper to myself,
Questioning my sanity.

As I stare at myself,
In the reflection of the window,
The dark oblivion beyond,
I see someone else.
Wild-eyed, Insane.
His wicked cold smile.
Hair in his face.
Blood covering his arms.
Wounds, wounds that will never heal.
Not even on the inside.

I start to shake.
In fear? Halfway.
A psychotic state of mind,
That stays hidden.
Until now.

The blood spills onto the floor.
Warm, sticky... comfort.
All the comfort I would ever need.

I shake more. Violently.
In shear panic. Fear.
Someone calls my name.

"Triston..."
My name said cautiously.
I slowly turn from my reflection.
She's here... Hope?

And it's gone. At least for awhile.
No longer on the edge of insanity.
A complete psychotic state of mind.

Tears run down my face.
Still shaking... and it's over.