as the icy blade easily tears through my fragile skin i feel
exhilirated and unstoppable. i just stare at the open wound
watching the blood trickle down my wrist. the numbing pain sends an
adrenaline rush through my weakened body.its time to stop i think.
yet i continue until i can bear it no longer. a puddle of blood now
draining in the sink. it will happen again. my desire for pain is
just too much.
poetry i wrote b4 i stopped cutting and b4 i got therapy. yeah im
scared of who i was too.
dont cut. i would cut when anything that made me emotional. i would
cut happy or sad or just if i was bored. and i hid it. so it wasnt
for attenton, it was for pain.