Ranting/slam poetry

Cuts.

Cutting myself was a way to escape my mind, my heart, my conscious, my pain. I'm about 8 months clean now but I just can't stop thinking about breaking that bond between my skin and my veins and thighs. Seeing the blood slip out in small drops, feeling the burning and stinging of the shower water as it licked upon my wrists, a lot of the time my tears as well, it was my high. Of course it was short-lived, but I felt happy. Sometimes I think if I cut deep enough and didn't stop, I would finally die.