The pressure builds up immensely. Anxiety, doubt, fear, anger. I’m crawling underneath my skin. With the cut comes intense relief.
Now when the blood comes out of me, it makes it so nothing matters, and then I feel invincible, but the relief flees too quickly.
As it fades I next crave more cuts, the boiling under my surface, growing stronger, getting hotter, till I can let it out of me.
An addiction and compulsion. It is an ongoing battle, that I feel I’ll fight forever, as there is no end in my sight.