I can't help it
It just feels so good.
The way the cold blade
Runs along my skin
How it leaves a small red line.
I can't help but wonder
What it would feel like
To go a little deeper
To push a little harder
To cry a little softer.
I cant help but wonder
What it would feel like
To fill a floor with crimson red
And take my last breath.
But i find myself each night
Drawing fine red lines
Not to deep yet not to weak
Addicted to the relief it brings
Addicted to the blood that runs
Addicted to the scars it leaves
So addicted its become a part of me.
YOU ARE READING
A Story Told, But Never Really Heard
PoetryThis is me. With no boundaries I reveal myself and hopefully save myself. I'm not sure whether I am writing this for you, or for me, but I hope it makes an impact none the less.
