The tears slide down my face
As the knife, scissors, or even a pen sharp enough
comes down
And leaves its mark on me
And I enjoy it.
Through the pain and tears
I contort my face into a twisted smile.
And for a moment, I feel good
But then the blood starts pouring over
Onto the floor.
*Time to clean it up....
This is about a time when I cut a while ago. Don't worry, I don't cut anymore....although I want to