Self Mutalation

Self mutilation  in prose
Standing under the faucet; dripping water dousing my form.    Alone with my thoughts in my deeds and my violent temper; liquor and abuse term oils and tantrums.
Perfect body but soiled and ragged insides now it is time to unite them.  Cleaned body only to be soiled with my rotten viscera, blood painting my flesh my naked crotch collecting filth from my once magnificent body .
Standing in the shower, watching the pool turn lighter shades inside the shades while life parades outside in light; my opposition.  
Whole now, once laughed at cutters and now I bear razor marks; my embrace to free blood and memories.  Only regret that I have saved the cock.