Now I am stressed once more

Making up rhymes for a stone- a pretty one, at that

I knew perfectly well what I was about to do

The blade nearly touched my wrist

And I stopped

Not before it made a scratch

On my dry skin

That was tanned to the color of bread crusts

Even now, my chest feels like it will explode

From shame and fear of what I nearly did

Key word ; Nearly

I kept the blade in a different room

There was something I didn't like about it

That thing was evil

Within was an evil

I had been drawn to that evil

Does that make me evil ?

I wonder if I should be worried that I'm not scared of being evil

Now I sit at my desk, talking to an Amethyst

-An Amethyst bound in silver, mind you-

I wonder how my life came to this