My hand aches
to hold the blade
to trace the scares
that I have made,
to drag the metal
across my skin,
to feel the hurt
knowing I gave in,
to see the blood
leaving a trail,
the sign showing me
I didn't fail,
to feel free,
to feel alive,
the only thing
letting me survive,
to forget my past,
to stare at my blood
flowing freely from my arm
just like a flood,
to control my pain,
know I'm in charge,
choosing to cut some small
and cut some large,
to be able to breathe again,
to feel alright,
lose a lot of blood
and sleep one night,
to drown my pain,
ease my sorrows,
live in the now
and not worry about my tomorrows,
to make okay,
remind me I don't have to be,
so every time I look at my body
my hatred is all I can see,
to feel the sting,
to feel the burn,
to watch the blade
twist and turn,
oh how my hand aches
to hold the blade
to trace the scars
that I have made.