A cut above the rest

Cutting.
Call it what ever you want
Stupid, pointless, a cry for attention, or a mental issue
For some it’s just pure satisfaction
The feeling you get after the blade gently glides over your delicate flesh
Is like no other
Then the blood starts to drip,
and all that you can do is look at it
After a few hours you have a horrific gash encrusted with dried up blood starring right at you
Screaming and yelling at you saying “ MORE, MORE, you know you want to! ”
So what do you do
You pick that razor right back up and do it some more
Before you know it your arms, legs, and stomach are covered in these monstrous gashes
Than comes the questions
The “ What happened to your arm?” “What happened to your leg?”
You can’t tell them the real reason, so you make up some outrageous lie like “ I was climbing a fence and my arm got caught on the spokes”
Their response is nothing more than a “ Oh.. ” with an uncertain face, so you walk away to avoid anymore questions that may risk blowing your cover
You’re getting more and more questions everyday, so to cope with the stress you cut some more,
Until one day
You go a little bit too deep
You don’t know what to do
So you just sit there on your bathroom floor practically bleeding to death
“This is it” you think to yourself
It’s all over now
Than you pick up your phone,
Dial the number of your best friend and tell her everything that happened
She starts to cry and tells you she’ll be right there and to hang in there for just a few more minutes
But you know those few minutes
Are a just a few to many
You tell her you love her and that your sorry
Than you hang up the phone.
When she gets to your house,
all she sees is 10 cop cars and an ambulance with you being rushed out on a stretcher
The cops make her go home so she’s left worrying all night if you’re okay or not
Than she gets a call
It’s her best friends mother
Explaining how Lucy didn’t make it,
and that she’s in a better place now