October 8, 2010
Oh, the sting of living with the fear of dying

Oh, the bitter relief I get when I cut, but

Oh, the pain feels good, too good to quit

How is it that my only companion can send me to an early grave?

Was that though looming in my head when

I started this game? It was

Supposed to distract me from my hurt, it was supposed

To be a onetime thing, but I

Know I went too far, and now I’m stuck with the scars

That I gave myself. Sometimes, I look at my blade, and listen to its harsh words

You awful demon child, you unworthy blemish!

Were you really stupid enough to believe I could help you?

Oh, how could my only friend be so cruel?

Oh, why have I let the blade control my life?

Over and over these thoughts turn in my head, I’m ashamed of

Me and what

I have become. And to

Think that I was once happy, and to think

That I once cared for myself

I once cared enough to keep the blade away

Should I try to

Go back to those days? I know I should try

But the risk is too high

Something’s arisen in me, making the cutting too hard to stop

Telling me that I need the pain, telling

Me that’s the blade is the way

To happiness. I’ve tried to

Leave the blade,

But it’s too powerful, but

I am too weak. The blade told me it

Won’t do any good to throw him away,

Cause I’m only gonna grab him before trash day, he says

I’m not strong enough to quit. But I’ll be

Damned if I let a piece of metal tell me I’m weak, but

If it were wrong, then I wouldn’t have these open wounds, but

I do have them. I do have the scars, I

Do not have the strength to quit. I hate you, blade! Do

Ya hear me? I hate you and the hold you have on me! But that blade, that

Damned blade keeps looking at me, keeps smiling as

If he knows a secret that I don’t know. And he knows

I won’t ever let him go, and I know I

Don’t want to.

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