my boss found out i was cutting on shift. i work in a basement so no one would be there except me but i had only started up again recently. the last time i cut was in highschool and tho it has been many years since then the feeling of pain and euphoria is still so crystal clear, like a loud shattering in the silence. I didn’t mean to start this up again but Ive been a non alcoholic and sober for 3 years after a long, long strain of addiction. I guess cutting was the only thing I could think of.
The body is stubborn. No matter how deep you cut it, it will repair itself over and over again. It’s better then an alcohol addiction, lemme tell you that.
All the sharp objects and utensils were removed after my boss caught me in the act the following day.
Not that it mattered, anything can be used to cut if you have enough commitment to use it. Like pliers, a paper clip, or your own nails.
But no one else will ever appreciate these little things about you, of course common sense would say as much.
I don’t know how many pebbled scabs I’ve peeled away at this point, scars ive traced and ate from. It’s hard. After becoming an adult these things became so hard to do. Where can I do it and how can I do it effectively? Those things come to mind now.
Old scars are white, recent ones still hold a darkish red.
How many times have I seen my own coworkers bearing the same marks in earnest.
When your body becomes trained to do these things from adolescence to now it becomes very hard to give up.
For now I’ll keep stock of my little magic and marvel in the way my blood boils from a seam, reminding me that I’m alive.
Tomorrow is a new day and the new pain reacting on my skin the morning after reminds me of it.