My Tool, My Release.

Like a gaping hole in my chest
A dark feeling I cannot repress
A blade across my skin so sharp and nice
Something that will help me pay the price.

Blood trickles down my arm
This pain gives me no harm,
For I long for the feeling as my skin hisses
And the tingling becomes to witness.

For the hours I go without this help
My mind begins to yelp and yelp,
It swears it cusses it begins to shout
“Let it out, let it out” it shouts and shouts.

Without my tool I cannot release
And the voices never cease,
It grows more violent and nasty
It shouts things that are not classy.

My mind is stirring with so many thoughts
So many thoughts that it could cause a drought.
The cuts already start to fade
And my mind has begun its survey.

My mind is angry, not happy nor pleased
It wants, no needs a release
The voice that tells me not to give in
Already becomes more dim

Like a florescent light that flickers
My blood quickens
And as I give in to the dark voice
My shirt becomes darker and moist.