Stainless Steal

The tip of the blade touches my skin

My body shrieks for me to stop

But with my heart aching so

My mind tells me to carry on

I push the blade hard against my frail skin

The tears fall delicately like the melancholy of rain droplets

Yet as I pull the stainless steel up my arm

My emotions are gone, I just feel numb

I ardour watching as my skin torn asunder

Almost as if it is replicating the fissure between my inner confinement and sovereignty

I love watching the scarlet river flow

It brings me more peace than when the crystal river flows

Precipitously I find myself bleeding copiously

The laceration so abysmally deep and wide that the fleshy tissues and sinews protrude
It was but two in the morning when they found me covered in the cerise

They rush me to the hospital for many butterfly stitches of blue to cover up

Yet I do not feel relief as they tell me

I am lucky not to have gone half an inch deeper for I’d have hit something vital

I feel disgruntled. Thwarted. Livid. Infuriated.

It had been my chance to have finally let the all the venom seep out.

Nay however, I had missed it by half an inch!

I feel like a failure.

I feel worse; for the release through self-inflicting agony is temporary

I know how to end the torture permanently.

Yet none will let me. Sometimes I suspect even my own subconscious sojourns me.

Now I will forever bear scars I wish not to see.

How is one meant to continue existing like this? Wearing evidence of being an abomination to humanity.

Will this injurious cycle ever end?