Crimson stains the steel edge

This tool…

My enemy
My friend

The glint it hints
Beckons me
Calling me to my end

The pain, a thing I yearn to feel
The object that makes me feel real


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  1. Try skiing, riding a bucking horse (or bull), bungee-jumping. Well, maybe not the bull, but I guarantee you’ll feel alive without the knowing scars. I know hiding feels safe. Lonely feels normal. Cutting bleeds the pain -but life can only be found by living. Good luck.


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