scratching

10 1 0
                                        

I step through the door.
Itching for my piece of steel.
Locking myself away to open a vein.
Tension released, through a sin.

The itch, finally scratched away.
The release of blood.
All the sin,wiped away.

No mater how much I scratch my itch.
It's persistent, coming back everyday.
Every hour.
Every second.
I itch for my release. 

Every day.
I itch to open a vein.
And let my guilt pour out.

wordsWhere stories live. Discover now