A silver knife

Shining steel blade

An arm

A cut

Shining steel blade

Turned crimson

A stream of crimson

Flowing down my

Once flawless white

Arm

Pain

Beautiful pain

In my arm

Lovely pain

Setting my arm

On fire

Dull, dry blood

Covering me arm

I wash it off

Hide the traces

The pain still stays

Good, cleansing

Pain

All too soon

The pain starts to dull

No

No

The pain must stay

Deep-cleansing pain

Must stay

But it fades.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow the cycle continues.

Tomorrow.