X: school shirt

My school shirt was stained with blood today.
I'd picked and scratched at the itch.
Eight cuts from a switchblade
Had their protective scabs removed,
Just for me to itch.
Their blood soaked through the sleeve of my shirt
Sticking it to the skin on my arm.
All because of my self harm,
This vicious cycle turms.
Because prying the sleeve from my skin
Caused them to bleed again.
I threw my top in the wash
Hoping mum won't see
And hoping brown blood won't stain,
Because polkerdot is out of fashion?
Because the colour won't match my eyes?
Because my secret can't ever be known.