I'm better
The urges are dispersed
The cuts have healed
But sometimes I miss it like an old friend
It's not an urge
It's a longing
Like it was my blanket
And I'm cold again
It was a comfort
Now I miss it
I long for the cool blade
The sting as it breaks skin
The blood trickling down
I know it's terrible
But I can't stop feeling like I am empty and I want fill the hole
Even if it is filled with my blood
Even if it does kill me
Even if it is the end of me
I can't stand the emptiness
I just can't any more
YOU ARE READING
Blood Stains
Poetry*trigger warning* I'm lost•I'm broken•I'm hurt•I'm sorry ~the ones marked "x" are about my struggle with food and eating~
