Suffication

poem of the feelings, description, and understand of cutting -Authors note: Currently, I don't cut. Don't judge.<3

Stuck in this confinement.

I can't cope.

I can't breathe.

Its suffocation.

Damnation.

I don't know what to do..

Blade shines like a light from the heavens..

More likely hell.

Exhilarating!

Intoxicating!

Blindly slitting,

Hitting,

Burning,

Yearning for a harsher pain...

Past.

Each is worse than the last.

Hiding them cleverly It doesn't last.

Losing sanity and all control, you have to feel something again.

Have to feel again..

Discovering different types of pain and choosing from your list of personal torture which is your favorite.

Sickening.

Disgusting.

Despicable.

Repulsive.

Vile.

The addiction spreads quit literally all over.. 

What could drive you to such a thing?

It begins to loose its sting..

Cutting deeper.

Pain seething.

It begins leaving..

Just like everyone else.

Alone.

How could I do this to myself?

Author's Note

Please no major hate, its a poem. I'm not opening a discussion of cutting here. Just be honest of what you think, but if you don't like the idea of cutting, and that's the problem of why you don't like it, then just leave silently. Thanks.