The knife penetrating my skin slowly dragging it further and deeper. Suddenly it’s all gone the tears the hate, the hurt, the sorrow, the emptiness, the aggravation and antisapation all leeking out in the form of my blood. I’ve cut once, then make another. The blood glisins in the dull moon light as the numbing takes place I’m numbed of my depression, numbing of any and all feelings I have.
I cut again, focusing on the pain the one feeling that does remain consentrating on what I’m seeing. I take the knife away from my arm I see the whiteness of the skin underneth and watch as the blood slowly leaks through that pail inner skin. As this happens the relief comes. Relieving me from life, teh life I wanted to get away from, and did. Even though it only lasts a short period of time it’s the quickest way I know that is able to releave me of everything so greatly, other then death. I don’t do it to punish myself, or to get back at other, or for attenion ro sympathy. I cut because it helps me the only problem is, every timeI see any of my scars, I see the pain that that scar had once releaved, that pain is stuck outside of me. In time it all sinks back in.
it would make a good story if beta-ed. it’s not bad though, just lose the typos.
fiction? if so, do continue it.
I’ve been there. I know what your talking about. Every now and then, when I get really depressed about something, I’ll take a knife and just start cutting my wrists. I don’t know why. Something takes over my mind and I feel like I just have to do it. I feel, like I have to take out all of my stress by hurting myself. And I know that it’s not good and it’s only hurting yourself, but when I get depressed, it just feels like the right thing to do at the time. I remember once I was cutting my wrists and I was holding the knife in my hand and crying. I tried to kill myself… fortunitly, as this was happening, the phone rang. I zoned back into reality. Now when ever I go back to that moment, I’m so thankful I didn’t.
As a ritual of healing, cutting is definitely underrated.
Been there,done that,felt no regret,my trophies of war and pain on my arms…Better than tattoos,better than being the sheep in the damned flock.For the sake of healing,blood shall flow.Always. Instead of killing one’s self,you cut yourself, bleed your pain out,heal yourself back,caring for yourself…because no one else does when you need it.
exactly
that is exactly how it feels every time and yet always i do it again. why is blood the only way i can seem to escape the emotions that rule my life so much of the time?
the blood is the life. the letting of blood is the release
to the second reply, by anonymous. this is almost impossible. almost half a year ago i did exactly what you did. and i was still so young. i went one day when i was at home alone after a really bad day to the bathroom crying and picked up a blade (nothing new….) but this time was meant to be the last. but the same for me, the phone rang, i came back to my head and thought about it, thats when i got into goth and rock, i never did it again, its hard but worth it. still always have to keep part of my arms covered. so sorry so many ppl go through this. reply anon. no2?
breathe life into the knives.