In the blood
Written for the Beauty of Cutting Comp
“No high will be as good as your first, but you can die trying”
I’m not really sure why I did it
desperation mixed with curiosity maybe
the last resort of someone that needed to scream
yet only found silence in her throat, sickly sweet
Everything I ever did came down to curiosity
I used to think it was better to know, no matter how stupid
Self-harm – I’d been doing that for years
with candles and wax, though wax burns never left
the kind of mark the serrated edge of a knife
does as it tears through skin.
For a moment among the dizzy high of pain
everything was alright, I was in control
all my worries gathered at that one line of exit
my eyes lighting up at the tiny beads of blood
spilling up and over my skin.
And habit is a powerful thing for an addict
anything that has the power to suspend reality
for long enough to make you forget
is a good thing… or so I once believed
as I chased hospital admissions
psychiatric wards, bandages
and long sleeve shirts in summer.
Not forgetting to leave out the terror
of bleeding myself out and into shock
while knowing it wasn’t enough to make me stop.
© Indie Adams 2012