Cutting is for Winners

Yeah, I cut. What’s your point?


The razor blade pierces my satin skin

Cold metal against my pure warm blood

Excitement rising as deeper it goes

“This is it, this is relief”

The sharp edge sways along the bumpy path

Dark marks begin to form among its edge

Almost there, almost better

One by ten the form, bloodier, wetter,

I climb the heights of a new limit

Digging as far as ill go

And I feel it, sweet relief

As the scar begins to form.

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