At night, I cry...The torrents of tears parade my pillow. Surges of emotion flood my memory, bleeding throughout my history of life. Every injury, every slight piercing pain returns and drains my ducts dry...Sleep. All I want is sleep... The rage of thoughts run rampant across my brain, creating an ever-amassing entorrage of pain...I'm left in the void. Feeling nothing but pain...The dark and dense dilapidated, degrading body...Always being torn. Flesh...slipping, giving way to the knife...then drops of crimson seep slowly from the wound. Bright blood soothing my senses. Nothing left but mindless drivel. All the pain now appeased by the dripping fluid. The scent of it slipping into my senses, raiding my intake of oxygen. The bittersweet, coppery breath melodious to my mind...
A gentle touch pierces the perfect round bubble of blood, now slowly winding an infinite path across my forearms. Downward. Ever trailing in tiny rivulets dancing down...cris-crossing paths and melding with another drop. In some sense seeming harmonious, something that was created out of chaos and confusion now leading the trail quietly down my arm...everything made sense, everything was given order, from this small token of pain. I stare at the tiny droplet upon my fingertip and touch the tip to my tongue. Ecstasy...The irony, sweet dribblings tasting metallic yet delicious. Nothing more soothing than the taste of one's spilt blood...
The tiny rivulets dry and crackle upon my arms, leaving an insane tattoo in bright bleeding paths. Like someone had painted a scape upon my arms...the paint dried slightly and was now a faded shade of cherry. In contrast with the pale peach plush skin, it was a painter's masterpiece. The wound still bursts forth with crimson, edging the stillframed slash like plasticene, it was a nightmare to behold. Beauty for me. Just another wound...another outlet for the greediness and hatred I held within my soul. Soon the inflamed area would heal and nobody would know...
The wound now bedraggling bits of flesh and tiny capillaries, slowly swelled shut. After a firm scrubbing with the washcloth and peroxide to keep from infection, a simple long-sleeved shirt would cover the maimed body...
Again the tears swell within my eyes and drizzle down my cheeks. Attempting to fulfil the only means of maintaining my composure. I hadn't cut for over two years...After my parents found out, I was threatened with getting help for this terrible thing I had done...Now the fears have arisen again...Filling my bosom. The pain that I endure, the loss of many, the loss of myself...All curling into one as I try to get some sleep at night. One last wound...One last scar, haunts me, tears though my soul, where I find myself at night, scratching at it, wishing it would go away...
All the scars that I try to conceal
If anything the suffering continues on
How long will it be until this pain is gone?
So still I slit my tender skin
So very frightened, afeared of my sin
Somebody wake me from my past
So I can continue with life at last
All my wounds they stain my soul
Someone please, just make me whole
I'm sickened by this dreadful sensation
End my life, end this vexation...
Stop the tears and blood from falling
Someone, I beg, hear my calling...
In this endless cycle of suicide
I will ever hide
