Addiction or coping
what have we become?
As I sit with blade in hand
hoping to go numb.

It seems to take more
than what it used to be,
deeper go the slices
crimson rolling over me.

All I see is red
with tear-soaked cheeks
droplets form to rivers
which used to be creeks.

No way to stop now
is this addiction or coping?
One day I'll put down the blade
or so I keep hoping.