I would tell you of a symphony of pain.
Of long days and nights, with a knife.
I don’t remember how it started,
but I remember the pain was exquisite.
Funny thing, pleasure inside of pain.
Like yin and yang, an illusion of balance.
But it is not balance, harming oneself.
It is a difficult imbalance to overcome.
So I’ve sought help from others.
Professionals and friends.
Many people know of my addiction.
But few truly understand the pain.
Hence I write to speak for fellow sufferers.
Those who know it all to well.
They who are out there, addicted,
like me, to this odd taboo.
It’s not always about blood,
it comes in many different forms.
A many faced demon, bent on destruction.
It will haunt me for all of my days.
As it haunts so many others.
You are out there, my kindred spirits.
I love you, know you’re not alone.
Together we can shine light on this darkness.
I always hope that someone hears.
That someone feels a little better.
That it may bring tears to eyes.
I hope that I make something powerful.
The tears are happy,
when someone feels less alone.
That makes me feel happy.
Like I have made just a tiny difference.
But it also makes me sad,
that others know this pain,
for it is an cruel burden to bear,
and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
I will continue to speak out,
for those unable to speak for themselves.
I always keep you in my heart.
My beautiful kindred spirits.