The Cut

It was too tempting.
I couldn't keep it inside any more.
I felt beside me for the tool of choice.
A sharp metallic pocketknife.
A flame and a knife was all I needed.
I felt down my arm for a place that was fresh and untouched.
I flipped open the pocketknife as it gleamed in the light.
My adrenaline began to kick in at full throttle.
My palms became sweaty and I had began to tremble.
I put the cold knife to the fresh tingling skin.
In one soft stroke it had sliced the porcelain skin.
The clean ghostlike skin had suddenly became destroyed.
The red juices began to flow outward.
My eyes were glued on the trickling stream of blood.
It would leave a mark.
I fell back on the bed and closed my pain filled eyes.
Once the stream ran dry I cleaned myself up.
And washed the red stained knife.
I turned on the air and laid myself in the bed.
Shutting my eyes, I fell asleep.