I see my own reflection,
And feel the loathing from within.

The anticipation of relief,

Of the blade cutting in.


The steel is cold and sharp,

Against  my weary skin.

It slides through slowly,

And I savour the feeling that it brings.

How far shall I cut?

How deeply shall I go?

I see the vein pulsating before the blood begins to flow.
Should I cut a little deeper and have this journey end,
Or dance with the pain that has now become my friend.

I look at my self-hatred reflected in the blade.
The future is uncertain,
And the choice still remains.
Do I wait for tomorrow,
As it is another day,
To live with the pain,
Or let my soul soar away.