The knife is my friend
It gives pleasure and pain
When I cut, I feel alive once again
The scars are my war wounds
There are too many to count
I can’t keep track
They continue to surmount
I’m told I should stop
This behavior is “Bad”
All this does is make me mad
They don’t understand
I have to fill this hole
This thing has taken over my soul
I cut and I cut
Until I pass out
The pleasure, the pain
To this I’m devout