Blades

Story about self harm and how it takes over.

Adrenaline ran through my veins. My heart raced. With my quivering hands, I opened the drawer and grabbed the scissors. I knew what I was getting myself into, and I didn’t care. I craved the relief. So I made the decision right there. I put the cold, sharp blade down, and dragged it across my skin. At first, nothing came. I tried again, harder this time. There it was. I could feel the world melt away. The tension was gone. In that moment I found comfort in my own blood. It was embarrassingly shallow, and didn't feel like enough. And it wasn’t. Thats why it’s so hard to stop. You go from a rubber band, to beating yourself, to cutting with scissors, to  cutting with a blade. You run your fingers along your fading scars and ache for more.

Reviews

[splattercore]

It's the magical chase to feel like you did the first time. The eternal high that one feels. Everything after that just feels "okay". The addiction takes and the gamble ensues. No longer feeling the reason, it's just the compulsion to do so. Eventually it dies out in way or another, you'll lose interest enough to eventually experience a new high, and it will remind you of the very first time. Nice piece! I loved it! Give me more!

[Daniel Valentine Rivera]

It's a shame that a person has to result to self harm to cope with their misery. However this poem does give enthralling insight on the subject and it's done very well. Well done!

[Jose Waldo]

Thank you!

[Delmar Cooper]

And here I thought it was just me.