Racing heart, fluttering eyes
Putting on a fake disguise
Tremors running through my veins
Chills are driving me insane
Feelings of anticipation
Doomed to ultimate damnation
Snapping bands across my wrists
Returning scars that still exist
Welting up and turning red
But these poor scars have already been bled
Crying both inside and out
Nothing left to talk about
Charred soul and swelled up arms
Isn't there a saying, the third time's a charm?

It's been more than a month, when is long enough?
When blades are blades and knives are knives,
Rather than relief for when times get tough.

How long do I wait, for dark scars to fade?
When will the urges be something to evade?

Why isn't anything innocent anymore?
Just new methods of pain, waiting to be explored.

How can I stop wishing that when I hold an edge,
It would slip, just a bit and I can have revenge.

But for now, I have to be patient,
And keep myself away.
From all the edges, points and harm that taunt me every day.