Blue Veins vs. Red Veins

These blue veins pump life through me, reminding me that I am alive,

But am I living or just existing,; intrusive thoughts invade my conscience,

These blue veins sit under a layer of skin, heart thumps- reverberating in my ears.

Calloused fingertips rub against the smooth flesh that protects these blue veins from being invaded,

I think of the bloody mess I could create with a single slice of silver,

Would it hurt? I am already numb, so no pain could be worse, could it?

The answer is a bold black, illuminating itself inside my brain- Yes.

My little sister has blue veins too; hers are shielded by the innocence of being only eight,

What would sacrificing these blue veins and turning them red, do to her purity?

Ruin it, the thought is bittersweet; she would no longer be someones little sister,

Instead, those once blue, now brown decaying veins would cause her depression,

She would bring your favorite chrysanthemums to your headstone every missed birthday and holiday,

This reality check makes me gently drag my nails across these blue veins and say "I must stay."