I read the text and then blocked you
then I picked up a blade and put it to my wrist
I see my phone ringing its my sister
I pick up and set down the blade
I picked a marker and made the lines on my arm
the lines i was going to make with you
Maybe a different day

I take solace in knowing
That in a few hours
I get to choose
How much to bleed
How deep to go
I get to make the choice
And take control
Over this one thing at least

I want to feel the pain
I want to stain my arms
I am and deserve
Nothing
I am a broken human
Waiting to feel alive
Seeking high after high
In drug after person
After drug and
I am lonely but
I want to be alone
I don't want him to see me
See the ways I wish to bleed
Just let me be
Nothing
Until I become
A self-fulfilling prophecy

if only you could ever know what you've done to me

ink stained my skin from where i wrote hate letters to myself

scars line my skin from where i tried to cut out everything i hated about myself

fat clings on my bones for dear life because i tried to starve it off

pain still flows along with my blood, traveling from my mind to my heart

if only it could leave with all the blood i tried to lose

Cutting is just like a hot shower. At first, you don't even want to get a shower. But when you're in it, you don't want to go out. Cutting has a lot of resemblance to that. You never picture yourself as a cutter until you start, and then it's too late. Then it's too hard to stop.

When you first get in the shower, it's hot and burns a little - but the water feels good. After a few seconds, it doesn't burn anymore, so you turn up the hot water until you can tell, that it has gotten hot again. You continue until you run out of hot water. Then you step out and look down on you bright, red body. You didn't notice how hot it was because your body had built up a tolerance to it. But the entire time you were in the shower, letting the scalding water cover your whole body, it was burning hot. And you didn't even realize.

That's how cutting is. In the beginning, it hurts a little, but the good feeling it gives you overpowers the pain. So you continue. Eventually, your body develops a tolerance, and you are forced to cut deeper to feel the same pain as in the beginning. You keep making the water hotter, and you can't even tell how much it's burning. Until you finally step out of the shower.

You look down and realize what the blade has done to you. You realize that you have to stop, but you don't. Just like you don't stop taking hot showers.

That is cutting.

I can no longer wake up and decide what clothes I want to wear. I can no longer put on a t-shirt when it's warm outside. I can no longer wear mini-skirts, dresses, t-shirts or shorts without putting an extreme amount of thoughts into it.
Every inch of fabric counts.
Long sleeves aren't just long sleeves anymore. I now notice exactly where it stops on my wrist. It now has to be a certain length. Same goes for skirts and dresses. I can only wear long dresses and ****-skirts. Shorts is no longer an option.
I am almost always sweating. And for a very long time, I will continue to sweat.
It needs to be covered.
The world can't handle it.
That's why pictures of the harsh reality are removed or censored on social media. But I need to do my own censoring in real life. In real life, you can't just remove it. You never can.

It's the taste of salt from the oceans that run from tired eyes.

It's the feeling of cold metal going through pale skin that's never seen by daylight.

It's the sound of silent screams in the middle of the night.

It's a world seen through tear-blurred eyes.

It's the ***** smell from a poisoned inside.

One small thing, that's all it is.
One small thing to ruin the happiness I've built.
One small comment to make the water fall from my eyes.
The silliest things, the tiniest hint of hostility. Causes so much pain..

I look down to where my scars used to be. My wrists a sensation begins almost like a tickle. This feels so familiar.
And I can picture the little red lines. Like tally marks.
One for last week,one for yesterday. One for today.

In my mind I know these thoughts are harmful. Dangerous.
I've worked on this.
I learned to ignore it.
My mind says no, but will I really take the blade and tally up the score?

What's the worst that could happen?
After all it's just one.small.thing.

my wrists ache with desire and these lungs hitch
and heave with each sickening sob.
as my body begs to feel,
and my heart begs to not.

— to feel everything and nothing at once