You ask me how
I will do it.
I never told you
but I will slit my throat
in front of the person
that anger me the most.
I wanna see blood, red
and frighted eyes.
Scared for life.

why do they hate me?
is it because i love them?

I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.

eyes as blue as the sea
i drown every time
you look at me
slowly i can feel myself
fall
     ing