Loving the Pain
The pin.
It cuts,
deep into my skin.
The pain.
Flows out,
as does every sin.
The blood.
Runs out,
like a steady stream.
My mouth.
Is closed,
to hold back every scream.
The rush.
It comes,
and takes me far away.
The cut.
Gets worse,
each and every day.
The looks.
I get,
when people see my scars.
The relief.
I feel,
takes me very far.
The guilt.
Sets in,
as I try to stop.
The urge.
Rolls in,
to see that one last drop.
The pin.
It cuts,
deep into my skin.
The pain.
Flows out,
as does every sin.
It cuts,
deep into my skin.
The pain.
Flows out,
as does every sin.
The blood.
Runs out,
like a steady stream.
My mouth.
Is closed,
to hold back every scream.
The rush.
It comes,
and takes me far away.
The cut.
Gets worse,
each and every day.
The looks.
I get,
when people see my scars.
The relief.
I feel,
takes me very far.
The guilt.
Sets in,
as I try to stop.
The urge.
Rolls in,
to see that one last drop.
The pin.
It cuts,
deep into my skin.
The pain.
Flows out,
as does every sin.