Everyone has their addictions
Some like to swim in a bottle of whiskey
Others touch the sky as smoke fills their lungs
Carnal lust to feel some sort of love
Finding fleeting moments of joy in the bottom of a burning spoon

Me?
I'm addicted to the gore
Something wicked sharp for my legs
Something small for my torso
A sting and then it's smooth sailing

A leering grin on my thigh
I find myself in the raw pink edges
The yellow spheres of fat
That turn orange as blood bubbles to the surface
And run like crimson rivers down the drain

I am made of satin scars
A physical imperfection to mirror
How ******* up I am inside