you know its getting bad again
when everything desaturates
and your music isn't loud enough
to drown away those negative things
swimming around your head
making you want to be impulsive
despite it only ever bringing harm
to you and those around
and when sharp objects around
are calling your name
begging to get a taste of whats
right inside the flesh under your skin
and the bad habits come back
making you into who you were
before you thought you changed
growing into someone new
who no longer needed to hurt
in order to feel something
you try to find the beauty
in anything other
than the blood from your wrist