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.