Trigger warning: Self harm, cutting, suicidal thoughts


If she drives the blade deep enough
Will it fix her?
As crimson pours out of her skin
Slowly seeping out
She feels... relief
finally... relief...
Like releasing her life force
Setting herself free
She watches as the blade moves
Allowing it to do what it will
It doesn't matter anymore
If it eases her hell... it'll do
Each stroke more desperate than the last
A need to feel
So she digs it in deeper
She draws it out longer

And, as always,
There's this thought
That one so terrible she tries to ignore
The thought.... to make it fatal