Slicing Myself Open

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Slice.

The blade cuts into my skin.

A weapon that I weild; I have mastered this art.

A letter forms on my lips; a word in my mouth, a purpose in my mind.

At first just a surface scratch, and then deeper and deeper still...

My toes curl in pain; a small gasp falls from my lips.

I think about stopping, and then I think about you.

I can't stop.

Curly letters, blood beads on my skin.

I close my eyes for a second.

Living in the pain, in the bliss of this moment.

Enjoying my release of emotions.

Finally I've found a way to payback everyone I've disapointed.

You.

My parents.

My friends.

But most of all, myself.

This can't last forever, but when it's just me and the blade I wish it would.

Finally I let the knife fall into the sink and survey my handy work.

Beautiful, my best yet.

A shiver runs down my spine as I think of showing it to you, but I know I never will.

This is my secret and I won't share it with anyone.

I will take this to the grave, and I won't stop until it takes me there personally.

Lightly I trace my other cuts with my finger tips.

Green and purple bruises highlight them.

I don't notice the tears streaming down my face until I realize they are mixing with the beads of blood.

Life hurts; bruises, tears, rips & bleeds us all out day by day.

But I've found a way to fight back.

To let life know that no matter what happens to me...

No matter how messed up and tangeled my life becomes...has become..

I can take it.

I've finally found a way to make myself stronger.

I pick up the knife again, gripping it softly in my hand.

To take the edge off of life's knife and put it on my own.

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