I stare at my ankle and the thin red lines scream at me
I'm not sure if it's disappointment for stopping
or for starting again.
Now they settle into my skin,
beckoning me back,
to the dark days when the blade and I were lovers.
And blood ran cold to the razor's kisses.
Do I fall to his temptation?
Or do I rise above this?
I guess I'll find out tonight.