Never thought id feel so empty id split my flesh, just to feel again, just to distract from the fact that i feel dead inside; so much emptiness can only amount to hell or bliss; my desire for the afterlife, a darkness where i cant feel, wouldnt that be nice? Never thought id feel so numb i couldnt feel the pleasures in life, so dead i couldnt feel my fingertips. And pain was the closest thing, an extescy silver steel could bring. So bloody. So much fluid, expelled from my veins, passed the boarder from insanity, the bloody warmth giving back to me, drawing me back to reality. The habit drew forth blood loss, giving way to malnutrition, draining my strenth, and i couldnt function. Never thought i could feel more helpless and alone, supplemented with the fact that i put me there on my own. I chose, and pain really is better than emptiness.