Untitled

April 18, 2010
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I sweep sharp spikes down the peachy canvas of my arm.
Deep red bubbles up the crevice and a mixture of pain and pleasure tingle up my fingertips.
Emotion floods out with the creamy crimson.
This sensation lasts precious few moments before my eyes widen with disbelief at the horrific deed I performed.
I glance down at my reliever and hurl it far from fingers' reach.
Tears spark and stream down my face and splatter on my wound, salt stinging mercilessly.
Disappointment numbs my body and I am set back further than ever before.
Every second of relief counts for another day of pain.
It's not worth it. Or...is it?
...The latter, I think.





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