Cut

.-. Saw a title, took it as inspiration. This is what I came up with.

It slowly drags across my skin, my flesh cries out in pain

Those tears fall down the pure white wrist, it's like the crimson rain

Deeper and deeper it seems to cry, wanting so desperately to be let out

Anything it could do to get closer to you, it's almost at a shout

Your wrist starts to itch, then burn, then it's calling to you

Shaking going throughout your body,  looking at veins still blue

Anything to do to turn them red, to make your being suffer

Using bracelets as an excuse, fake injuries as a bluffer

The lies you tell to hide the scars, while still it calls every night

You begin to wonder why you wanted this, 'cause now you're filled with fright

Terrified of people, of friends, people who might see

Covering every inch of skin, every red line that could show

Darker clothes to reflect your feelings, your fear continues to grow

But every night you sit in that room, blade against your wrist

Carving pretty pictures with a razor, a masochistic twist

The words come out pretty, written so neatly imbedded

Into that pure white beauty, closer to being  Death's Wedded

Bride to be, because you have a lust for death

Waiting for it all to end, your very last breath

Another line made, grim grin on your face

Yet when you're alive,  each cut at it's own pace

While those tears, from your wrist and from your eyes

Drain out of your body, you make up every lie

It's only a defense, a way to make you live

Making the pain stop, it's only thing to give

For now is the night you make the final slice, the final cut

For now doors are closed, and the windows of life now shut

Author's Note

What do you guys think? .-. Is it too morbid?

Reviews

[AK]

Wow! It's dark but really nice! Great job!

[- - -]

Not too morbid I was actually expecting darker. It's a good poem though, reflecting the life of a addicted cutter well. Sad, well written, a good look into a cutter's mind, and a great piece.