Tonite was the first time. To feel the knife tear my skin. See my blood bubble then flow. Flush with a painful glow. I cant scream or yell or throw my pain away. I let it flow. My crimsion release.

Fresh Wounds
Begin to fester
Tearing inward
Scars  deepen
Transported from flesh
To the soul of a victim,

Specific pain
Catered to the controller
An intimate bond of blood to emotion
Crimsion Consumption
Pristine Flagellation
Perfect Punishment

With each step
My youth deteriorates
Enticing me deeper into the void
To which I am held captive

l.v.s and z.w.b