Self Harm/ Self Hate/ Depression

166

When you cut,
The skin around it puffs, red like wine
The blood beads up, perfectly in a crimson dotted line
It tingles and burns at first
But then it feels good, and your mind asks for one more cut please
One turns to two and two to four
At this point you just keep cutting more
There's no stopping yourself from the warmness flowing through
Everyone else is happy, so why can't you be too?
The bloods starts to drip, and roll down your skin
And a smile appears on your lips, from within
When you cut.