...And so I cut
To the one who can hurt me more than anyone & anything.
You hurt me...
And so I cut three straight lines across my skin and decided it wasn’t enough.
The pain wasn’t enough; I deserved more.
The blood wasn’t enough; I needed to see more.
So I cut seven more times to make it an even ten.
And decided I didn’t like the design.
I didn’t like the way it looked so I cut four more pretty lines across the top.
The pain, much deserved, finally met my standards.
The blood, warm, trailing across my arm, was nice.
That morning I woke up with fourteen fresh cuts and a pit in my stomach, and a voice in my head.
The pit telling me I shouldn’t, but the voice begging for more.
Liked or faved by...
