When you cut
The skin around it puffs, like a marshmallow
The blood beads up, perfectly in a crimson dotted line
It tingles and burns at first
But then it feels good, so that's only the worst part
Your body is in pain, but your mind is at ease
It feels so good, and your mind ask for one more cut please
Ones turns to two, and two turns into four
At this point you just keep cutting more
There no stopping yourself from the warmness flowing through
Everyone else is happy, why can't you be too?
The blood starts to drip, and roll down your skin
And a smile appears on your lips, from within when you cut
YOU ARE READING
The Fear of Drowning Deep
PoetryShe was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful something to be admired from a distance not up close. - A little talent is a good thing to have if you ever want to be a writer. But the only real requirement is the ability to remember every...
