Dear Long Lost Lonely Cutter

This goes out to the cutters,
The ones who slice their wrists;
their hips,
their thighs,
their shins,
it is their only wish.

It's about the blade,
The way it shines,
About the way it sings,
The way it slides across your skin,
Brings you to your peace.

Do you watch?
Do you stare?
As your skins turns straight into air.

Can you watch the blood pour out,
Can you drink it from its spout,
Taste the blood,
Or feel the pain.

The blade begins to call your name.
Grab me, rip me, hold me tight.
Let me kiss you, feel you, bite.
I'll rip you open drink your blood,
If you take me I'll be your love.

I'll call your name when you are sad,
Rip you open with a jab.
I'm your only friend he'll say.
I'm your only love.

I'll be here when they're all gone.
I'll be here when you are dead.
I'm yours.
And yours alone.

I am your blade,
I am your love,
I am your addiction.
I am the cutter.

Love,
A long lost lonely cutter.