Oh how I long for a blade,
Rubber bands don't do the trick.
A sting that feels so temporary,
Uncontrolled so goes the flick.

Oh how I long for a blade,
This welt is just not enough.
Repeatedly striking against my wrist,
Skin recognizes the bluff.

Oh how I long for a blade,
Cold stream of red is not the same.
Ice shrinking from inside my thigh,
So close to the origin of shame.

Oh how I long for a blade,
Effortlessly I watch it glide.
Numb to the demons that are within,
Another day I will not die.

Slowly pressure rises,
Intensity growing.
Water starts to dance,
Anxious and on edge.

Bubbles drift upward,
Heat building.
Steam begging to escape,
Aching and fed up.

Too much to take now,
Kettle screaming.
Rush over to lift it off,
Stove glowing hot and red.

Poured into a deep mug,
Tea steeping.
Feel it comfort from within,
Relaxed and at ease.

Running through a maze of halls,
Every corner turned your face appears.
Desperately trying to escape your grip,
Yet my mind seems to volunteer.

Just from reach of your fingertips,
Out of breath I circle round.
"I'm sorry" consumers the air around me,
Inevitably I am dead-end bound.

And so I find myself trapped,
Your breath searing the back of my ears.
Nails scraping these walls to get away,
This darkness consuming me for years.

Hips aching to forget your touch,
In your stench I will surely drown.
Memories make life feel worth ending,
A request for relief that's too profound.