The Cycle of Pain

It starts in my wrist
A most peculiar feeling
Almost as if it were needed to be itched,
But not quite
I, and I alone,know what it wants
It longs for the cool metal of the razor to kiss it once again

I hear it then,
The razor
It calls out for its old companion
All it wants is to make another work of art on the canvas of  my
body
It yearns for control over my will again

Then my body aches for the pain
Telling me that it just wants one last time
One last time to feel the sharp edge carve a path across my skin
A final time to release the tension of life by way of pain

That is when I unsheathe my razor
I then smile down at my old friend
A smile filled with need and lust
He returns this gesture, letting me know he needs it too

Unable to hold back any longer I bring the razor towards my body
My hand trembling slightly in anticipation
I feel my friend pressed to my skin
Then he runs across controlling everything
Leaving the path of destruction of his choosing in his wake
He leaves me breathless and filled

But, I am no fool
For I know that the next day will be the same
My  body and soul will hunger for him
They will ache for the pain once more
There will be no end
At least, until he decides he wants to end me