Electricity spires in my veins, racing through

capillaries, dancing though arteries,

chocking my heart, frying

my brain. I can't

seem to


the source

of the ache that I

can never get rid of. Maybe

it's the drugs. Maybe its the pain.

Maybe it's all the reasons why my mother

thinks I am insane. Maybe it's the

way I can never find a reason

to live longer than two

minutes at a time.

Maybe it's


face that I

want to rip my skin

off 25/7, eight days a week.

Maybe it''s because I love the way

my blood looks as it runs down my legs

and I finally feel free when my wrists are wide open.