I miss the feeling,

The way the blade felt against my skin.

Cold steel,

Warm blood,

Hot and cold just like me.

I miss the red lines on my arm,

The way the hate, the pain, the guilt just oozed out of me,

The relief.

I fucking miss that feeling.

Now all I have is paper and pen,

It's like replacing a cigarette with a candy cane.

Sometimes you don't want to be better.

Sometimes you just want to bleed.