Confessions of a Cutter

The scars on my wrists tell a tall tale
I was born to lose, set to fail
The razor slices across the tattered vein
I see my reflection in the bloodstain
I find the pleasure hidden in the pain
You may think what I do is inhumane
There is a method to all of this madness
Hidden in the self-hate and sadness
These are the confessions of a cutter
What you read may make you shudder
The scarlet spills onto the floor
I just can't take it anymore
Cutting towards my palm
No longer can I keep calm
Lying in this blood that won't clot
It's more of a mess than I thought
This time will be my last
It all happened so fast
There is so much blood, what a mess
It's much more than I can assess
As my eyes close, I see a bright light
I'm not making it through the night

10/24/18

(c) Sean Paul Gillum