My darkness rises with the moon.
Every night I live the same war.
To cut or not to cut. (Sorry, I’m a Shakespearean geek)
But I know that it’s never really a question.
I can picture the blood, feel the burn, and I know it’s coming and that I can’t stop it.
It should probably scare me, or at least make me feel a little nauseous.
But as usual, I feel nothing.
I know the blood will set me free.
At least until the moon visits again.
2 comments
That’s really beautiful. A bit sad but beautiful. I wish I could help you in your war.
I know exactly what you mean and how you feel. It feels like the dark takes you over and captures you and taunts you to cut all the time even though you don’t want to. Some nights it gets the best of you and you end up giving in and others you beat the urges. Just remember in the morning those scars will look hideous and you’ll try hard to cover your body to hide them but even though they are covered they can still be seen in some strange way.