Self Inflicted

""there is nothing more addictive, than a wound self-inflicted""

The Cuts

The cuts
lead to scars
scars tell stories
which no one
understands, no one
but me.
people think I'm suicidal
they don't get it
I don't want to kill my self
I just want to feel... free
when I cut I can forget
all my problems
and just concentrate
on the pain and
for that second
I am free... I'm Me..

" It's Raining, It's Pouring "

"It's raining, it's pouring..." her tiny voice echoed through the storm, her small frame darkening a small portion of the earth. She swung back and forth singing the song as the sheets of rain drenched her and her white, airy dress. Back and forth, her light blond hair blowing around her face. "The old man is snoring". Her small form looked out of place in the gray setting. Thunder cracked in the distance. As she swung, her body fading to match its surroundings. Yet she didn't stop. "He bumped his head". She was higher off the ground now. "And went to bed". She didn't seem to notice the lightning and thunder. "And didn't get up in the morning..." The echoing song trails off. An empty swing still in motion, the gray sky darkening to envelope it.

She crawled off under the porch and opened her treasure box humming..*it's raining, it's pouring..* as the piece of glass slides across her arm..the lightening and thunder roars in the sky.As drops of rain seeps through the porch floor, *jumped out of bed..* a drop of rain lands on her tiny arm,*and bumped.....* she stops humming to see the red run down her arm,Closes her eyes and smiles and continues to hum..*his head and can't get up in the morning*..as she continues to make the cuts on her arm.