Claws of Satisfaction

Deep inside,

I'm twisting.

I'm twisting around and around.

My stomach aches.

It's a reaction towards the stress.

When I'm starving,

It feels like claws.

When I'm starving,

It feels like satisfaction.

This isn't the best thing for me,

I know.

I get it,

I'm a weirdo.

To yearn for such pain,

To bathe myself in such agony,

It's only a matter of time.

It's only a matter of time before I'm found out.

I someway somehow like it here,

Where I'm at,

It's thrilling.

Don't give me that look.

Don't point that finger.

These claws of satisfaction,

I should be grateful for what I've obtained.

I shouldn't place myself in such agony.

If I know,

Then why do I do it?

Here is where I feel warm and safe,

Even though it's freezing cold and dangerous,

This is where I want to be.

I'm digging my grave,

I'm making it deeper.

The claws of satisfaction have a hold on me.

They rip my insides away.

It's a feeling so familiar.

It's a feeling I welcome.

I don't mind sitting on tacks.

I don't mind diving into a rose's thorns.

Call me emo if you want,

I don't care.

I'm addicted to the pain.

I'm addicted to the constant strain.

I don't mind my body giving in,

I don't mind my body giving up.

I'll just fade away.

The claws of satisfaction refuse to leave me alone.

Why would I want them to?

I'm within their grasp.

Call me mentally unstable,

I don't care.

No really,

I don't care.

I'm not afraid of pain.

I'm not afraid to die.

I'll do whatever I can.

I'll say whatever I can.

If it's to keep these claws of satisfaction,

I'll do or say whatever it takes.

Let me push away those dear to my heart.

I've given up caring.

I've become selfish.

I don't care about my sucky attitude.

I know it sucks.

Don't try and save me.

It's useless to try and talk me out of my ways.

My thoughts always return to my starvation.

It's either that or my blade.

The one that's hidden away from prying eyes,

It's mine and no one else's.

Who cares anyway?

I'm sure there are those who do care,

I'm sure I'm not alone.

I don't know why I always ask myself that.

Will someone stop me?

This isn't a romantic tale.

This doesn't deserve to be a romantic tale.

I secretly hope someone puts a stop to this.

At the same time,

I don't want anyone to put a stop to this.

Maybe I need therapy.

Maybe I'm a lost cause.

Do you think you can make it better?

I honestly don't think so.

There's nothing you can say,

There's nothing you can do.

So go on ahead,

Report me,

Say I'm mentally not okay.

Drag me into the nearest mental facility.

The claws of satisfaction will never completely fade.

I know this already.

So go on ahead,

Give up on me.

Let me lie down.

Let me close my eyes.

Let me wear myself down into the ground.

Let me breathe my very last breath.