Do You Too

Pulsing, burning, I wince but it's what I wanted.    
Broken razors hidden in the trash, red words leaving me haunted.  
I can't shower, without these stinging.    
I can't lay in peace, without the metal shouting and singing.  
"Come on, just once more, we'll make you feel better."  
Holding back until I erupt, shamefully giving myself to their pleasure.    
Long, too-hot sleeves, constantly folded under my thumb.    
This is all I need, everything else is numb.    
Tuck in my shirt, keep my belly in the dark.    
Scratch them at night, the words and lines flaking apart.    
Disappearing, all to be rehashed out.    
   
I'm saddened