Word Vomit

regrets

I knew the familiar feeling of cold, rusty metal onto my slightly feverish skin. I knew it all too well. How slow but painfully deliberate I would move my hand, pressing down as I go. Overwhelmed by the feeling of physical pain, I'd slowly forget -though only for a moment, the torment of my own destructive thoughts as the flaming, pool of scarlet drip down the floor. And I'd regret all over again.