My Habit

March 19, 2010
By Anonymous

The razor taunts me as if it could,
It screams and yells,
Killing my ear drums,
Its ripping threw my flesh,
And I'm not even touching it,
It whispers obscene lies in my head.
Its corrupting my inner being,
It begs me like its like depended on it,
Trying to convince me using cool, soothing tones,
Its voice making me slowly slip,
His voice goes from soothing to cacophonic and violent.
I realize its lost,
And my habits beings abolished.

The author's comments:
I don't cut anymore but i once did. I am currently on anti depressants and have 323 + scars on my body. This might be a little to much information but I'm not one of those pathetic people posing to be "emo,"
When I'd cut, I'd cut. I wouldn't do cute little cat scratches to get my parents attention. I did it to level me out and calm me down. What started as boredom and the need for pain, soon became a habit that haunts me to this day.

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