Cut and Love

Whenever I am overwhelmed by my sadness, anger and boredom

I can feel the healed scars tingling like signaling out to me

"Come cut again"

Whenever life goes spiraling out of my hands and hits straight down to the Earth's core like I had dropped it,

I can imagine how the cuts feel and how it hopefully bleeds

Because I am in need of the feeling of being in control

I already know how I always want to cut it

The cold touch of the blades against my warm skin 

Once soft and smooth, now rough with jagged scars

A beautiful diagonal slash

A work of art in my eyes

It is drawing a cross across on my wrists

All the rebellions and all the "Nos" I did not do

Sometimes I feel nothing like that area was numb by anesthesia 

As in reality, I want to be euthanised

Sometimes I feel like I have gone mad with tear stains across my face while I look in the mirror

I wonder "Is that really me"

And sometimes I feel like it was never enough, I went for more with great speed

I deserved more pain, more blood, more scars

I have grown to enjoy the feeling of pain, admire my scars

Do I understand myself?

Not yet. It takes a far longer journey for me but at least I accepted it and understood it yet I also undermined it.

Darling, I have been truthful as I promised and wanted you to

The color red looks beautiful tainted on your lips like it was on my wrists

So will you kiss my bleeding scars after all?