The Last Cut

Alexander J. Wolfe

It started when I was young
I had alotta pain to run from
I had to suffer for the things I hadn't done
Bleed for who I had become
Pay for the weakness of the only son
Transform the pain to a physical one
Make myself emotionally numb
After the last cut it was all said and done

 

You call it weak
I call it endurance
The weak won't slice the flesh and watch it leak
They can't afford that kind of penance 
Looking back it's kinda dumb
It's the wrong kinda numb
But you can't see what I had done
The blade was a different drug
The blood was met with a shrug
I wanted to prove my strength
A compensation for shortcomings in life
A manifestation of scars
Scars hidden from attention
The scars deprived of light
Finding the pleasure in the pain
You might know what that's like
It became pain for the sake of pain

 

I'm a certain kind of masochist
Releasing the blood to watch it drip
That blade never reaching my wrist
Cutting for a certain trip
Bleeding out in pain for the kick
Excited by the wounds I'd inflict 
The skin grew thick as the surface got slick
I'd flick the blade like a needle
Like all those drugged up people
That's how I became an addict

 

You call it weak
I call it endurance
The weak won't slice the flesh and watch it leak
They can't afford that kind of penance 
Looking back it's kinda dumb
It's the wrong kinda numb
But you can't see what I had done
The blade was a different drug
The blood was met with a shrug
I wanted to prove my strength
A compensation for shortcomings in life
A manifestation of scars
Scars hidden from attention
The scars deprived of light
Finding the pleasure in the pain
You might know what that's like
It became pain for the sake of pain

 

I'm proud of my scars
The memories captured by the marks
Mirroring the cracks in my heart
A reminder of my mistakes
Cutting deeper and deeper, raising the stakes
Trying to taunt the posers, tryna be more real
Loving the pain I'd feel, underestimating the dangers
I wanted that cut to be the deepest I got
I accomplished my goal 
It was deeper than I ever would've thought
Seeing it I was nothing but shocked
Seeing the parting of flesh wide and hollow
The blood took a while to follow
Stitches internal to bridge the gap
Crossing over like tracks on a map 

 

You call it weak
I call it endurance
The weak won't slice the flesh and watch it leak
They can't afford that kind of penance 
Looking back it's kinda dumb
It's the wrong kinda numb
But you can't see what I had done
The blade was a different drug
The blood was met with a shrug
I wanted to prove my strength
A compensation for shortcomings in life
A manifestation of scars
Scars hidden from attention
The scars deprived of light
Finding the pleasure in the pain
You might know what that's like
It became pain for the sake of pain

 

I was lucky for the place it took
In the wrong place I'd only have the time to look
The blood would have spurt
An artery severed 
The last mistake I would render
A body left cold and empty
A soul returned to sender
The only hope of my family
Spilling blood for vanity
Maybe I was lucky to survive
One small mistake to take a life
That's the last time I cut 

 

It won't make the final cut
Another could do the job if I wanted
I finally learned my lesson
That's why I impart the lesson
One mistake to end all mention 
A tragedy missing intention
The price paid for a fatal obsession 
Transforming a physical wound
And giving it to those you knew.

 

Alexander J. Wolfe

  • Author: Alexander J. Wolfe (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 5th, 2022 20:42
  • Comment from author about the poem: I wrote this poem shortly after the last time I had intentionally cut myself. The scar on my face is an old cut FYI. I'm a bit of a masochist and combining that with the negative coping mechanism component was a recipe for disaster. My last cut was very deep and wide requiring a prompt visit to the ER and stitches. I think it was around 7-9 stitches, 3 of which were internal. The only lasting damage is a surprisingly small scar, it's crazy what stitches can do. Anyways, if I had cut my inner thigh for instance, a place I have a multitude of scars, I would've completely severed the femoral artery and died. I did NOT intend to cut so deep, which is why I have stopped, I don't want to accidentally commit suicide. Death can be a matter of centimeters, one small mistake and you leave this life unresolved. I strongly encourage people to stop cutting.
  • Category: Sad
  • Views: 34
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Comments2

  • Alexander J. Wolfe

    I took that photo a long time ago, if it triggers anyone I will take the picture off, just lmk. As always I would love constructive criticism. Thank you for reading!

    • Alexander J. Wolfe

      Note that I wrote this in a musical manner and would like to put it to music with an acoustic guitar. Thus the repetition which is meant to be the hook.

    • GiftedT17

      I love this poem and your truth, thanks for sharing...



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