Is it bad to want the feeling of the blade slice through my pale flesh?
To see the blood form in beads on the thin lines on my thigh?
Not even flinching as the blade pierces my skin and laughing when it's over.
It's like I am drawn to the blade,
It's right there for me to pick up and scar my precious skin.
I get told to stop, but I do it again and again.
Like my flesh is asking to be cut.
Normal.
That's what it is for me now.
I used to do it for a reason, but now I do it to feel something other than pain.
To feel something other than the pain and hurt I am continuously reminded of.
So fast things change, from a young, innocent, happy child.
To a dark, pained, scarred teenager.
Oh well.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 7:02 AM UTC
Is it bad to want the feeling of the blade slice through my pale flesh?
To see the blood form in beads on the thin lines on my thigh?
Not even flinching as the blade pierces my skin and laughing when it's over.
It's like I am drawn to the blade,
It's right there for me to pick up and scar my precious skin.
I get told to stop, but I do it again and again.
Like my flesh is asking to be cut.
Normal.
That's what it is for me now.
I used to do it for a reason, but now I do it to feel something other than pain.
To feel something other than the pain and hurt I am continuously reminded of.
So fast things change, from a young, innocent, happy child.
To a dark, pained, scarred teenager.
Oh well.
