In a Freaks Mind

Blue blood pulsing beneath my translucent skin. Calling to me. It’s so irresistible. Almost irresistible, but I grit my teeth and look away from the violet veins that prove to be so tempting, even for a human. I lay still and silent a few moments, listening to the rushing of blood through my tense body, the trickle down to my fingertips. For the millionth time, my wild eyes stray to my wrists, zero in on the angry red scars. My mouth waters and my sweaty hands clench, I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to distract myself. I pick up a good book and pretend to read. To my horror, a bloody razrblade falls into my lap. My vision sharpens, a predator sensing fear, weakness in its prey. Tentatively, I hold the weapon in my trembling fingers. Cold chills slide down my spine. I marvel at how doing something so wrong can feel so right. I wonder at how I can hurt myself over and over and still seek more pain. It’s so confusing, yet I love it.

To crave the pain is so inhumanly
But to deny myself of blood, is simply inhumane.