I want it now,
I think of the pain,
I carve it,
The anger pulses,
I wish for it,
hand it to me consequence free,
I wish that nobody else could see,
the cuts then scars,
they see and judge,
to them i crave attention,
to them i want to die,
either way- they don't know the reasons why,
well then why do i crave pain?
pains my outlet,
bloods my relief,
to cut is my instinct,
to see it flow,
it comforts me,
like nothing else ive ever known,
every things so clear,
I'm in control,
when i see the blood i realize,
this is my gateway,
to feel alive,
to feel whole,
so let them think i cut for them,
they aren't worth my blood,
they aren't worth my time.
Its not a cry for help,
i don't want to die.
This is just my instinct,
no other way that feels so good,
bloods the only way, i can escape this animated life.
