I still have bad days
the ones that keep me up at night
blade in hand.
I long for the cold sting.
But then I remember you.

I press the steel on my skin
blunt side down

Writing words down
Using my brain as the generator
And my hands as the output
Writing whatever words I think
Brings the feeling of freedom
Of censorship
Of being lost inside
The vast sea of my brain.

Hard heavy hands lift
A steady worrisome heart
Breathing the ocean