How did this go so far?
The early days full of shallow, meaningless
relief. Self inflicted mercy upon sinful limbs
of lust. Clean the filthy snow with drops of
crimson tears. Addictive forgiveness for
my vanity. Disguise my failure with
small, pretty fears. Grow deeper.
Etch the memory into my flesh.
Before I can close my eyes, this nightmare
is evolving, turning, flying
away from control. Spiraling into a
lonely abyss. More tainted than ever.
Now when I cry, deep dark rivers pour
from messy, unfamiliar wrists.
I scream, too numb to feel it
slowly breaking me. What is left of me.
Though the harsh truth is obvious.
These scars, they are the threads that
trap me. These wounds, a shell, becoming me.
The rest is empty, this secret.