The Blood Gives Me Satisfaction

The sharp edge 

Of the blade breaks open my skin.

My body is numb.

Too numb to the pain,

Too numb to the blood. 

My mind is spiraling out of control,

Too paralyzed to realize what I am doing.

until it's too late.

One cut follows another,

and another.

The blood gives me satisfaction,

I can't stop until I see enough.

The blade falls from my hands,

the blood trickles,

Tears roll down my cheeks,

What have I done? 


This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741