Temptaions

The aching for the blade.

The ability to tend to your wounds with first aid.

The feeling of metal under your skin.

The jolt of adrenaline as you tear your flesh; so thin.

The movement of the blade that is now inside your arm.

You glance at the time and see two hours until you hear your alarm.

You stayed up another night and gave into your desire.

But the feeling of the slices only bring your mood higher.

The liquid escapes from the gashes that are fresh.

The open and torn entrances to the fragile flesh.

The troubles that line your life with this world feel gone.

You patch yourself up and know that this will not be the last night that these temptations will spawn.

Author's Note

Triggering. Please take caution.

Reviews

[Patrick Henry]

I like it, but I hope and eventually know it will pass with you..... unless drugs take over that rush. I've "cut" down to the muscle, pulled my vein out, cut down to tendon from ankle to hip etc.... I don't want to write it, but Albert Fish used to do things with needles that someone did to ME 'cause I felt I deserved it. A friend on here, has put some of these things in my head and past in real good perspective. Great poem. It's pretty brave to put your pics up, too! : ) xoxo -Mark