Cutting

Sometimes I feel like there’s no solution,

like a knife to my flesh is all that matters,

these times I crave blood to feel alive,

to relieve my mind from its burdens.

It’s as though a cut just deep enough,

or one that is just painful enough,

can cut through not just my flesh,

but also through the clutter in my mind.

I can’t medicate the feeling to go away.

No amount of rest does the trick.

The cravings are getting stronger,

while my willpower grows weaker.

It’s not a matter of if, but it’s when.

When will I submit to the darkness.

When will I take comfort in my blade.

I fear this beast will consume me soon.