a syringe. the plunger goes down.
the Good feeling goes in.
a smile slowly forms on my face.
it starts to work.
morphing my reality.
this is the life.
nothing but joy.
no pain.
no past.

All my life
I sought
an angel.
And he appeared
in order to say:
"I am no angel !"

Chaos from my mind moves to my skin
This time,red drops falling instead of tears
The cold blade dances across my wrists
Leaving long, raised pink bumps
Reminding me of me strengths
And weaknesses
Soon they will be just white scars
More red lines and bumps will take their place
Marking my body like tattoos
Like battle scars from the war in my mind
My mind remains blurred
The cutting doesn't help
But only numbs the pain
Some ask "Why cut?"
I  say "Why live
everyday a struggle
another day
another scar"