Tonight I hacked the **** out of
The medial portion of my right anterior brachium.
Just to torture myself
In a place that wasn't used to it.
The blood spilled in streams
Little specs flicked from a blade
Sprinkled on my fingertips,
Spread across my hollow hands
And dripped peacefully beneath me
To pool in my lap like a
Beautiful collection of art
Each rich drop.
I couldn't tell you what it feels like
To be in pain
Because I couldn't tell you what it feels like
To not
Be
In pain.
My self destruction is my only
Salvation.
So I dug that sharp metal through
These unsuspecting layers of frail flesh
And separated mind and body-
Tearing at the tendonous fibers
'Til an erosive eruption of blood gushing
Snap, and I could almost ******* laugh
At
The
Fact
That I could not feel one thing in me.
Couldn't feel a razor 6 inches in skin
Like I wouldn't feel weight on my chest
Buried 6ft deep in dirt.
So I burned away at my being
With a fury painted red and left me

Numb.

And you ask me why I
Worship pain, it is not
To feel something, it is only to
                                  B L A C K  O U T
Cause I'd like to be dead
But instead
I take advantage of myself
When I can't hurt anyone else
But I
Can't
Help
Hurting
Because it will crawl out of
My torn skin
And infect everything around me
I'd drown me
In my own ******* blood
If I could.
But I can't, so
I'll sure as **** take this chance
To cut my head off with
My own hands,
And maybe one day
I'll just
Bleed
*Out.