His arm was a dot-to-dot
of needle marks and scars
you join them up together,
reading
*'existence broke my heart'

A disease
That rots from the inside
Out.
Turns a beautiful
Smile
Into a poisonous sneer.
Makes foes
Out of
Reluctant friends
And turns
Towers of strength
To crumbling ruins.
Flows through your
Bloodstream
Like poison,
And seeps from
Your pores
To taint everything
Around you
With shades
Of virulent green.
A useless emotion
That makes you wish
You couldn't
Feel
At all.

Stupid us
thinking we were
in love.*



Stupid me
thinking I was finally
good enough.

You see cutters
don't cut for attention,
they cut because they have
an addiction.