I feel the cold blade resting against my tighs,
The smooth metal, soft and gental on my delicate skin.
Pressure, a sharp feeling,
And then comes the rush!
The most amazing feeling,
All the weight has gone,
Flows away!
The warm blood winds it was down my leg,
Staining my sheets,
Red blotches on pure white cotton.
You may find it wrong,
You may think that it makes me cry,
You may call me "emo".
But im not!
I find it so right,
I smile as it happens,
I call myself me.
And then it leaves the scar.
That reminds me of my fight,
The fight for life!
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- Yes i used to cut, in recovery! -
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