The rage hit me
then the blade hit me
my common sence left my body
to stand back and watch.
ive become what im against.
with the slit of the wrist
the pain struck
the anger took over.
i couldnt stop.
i hid under my covers
crying a river
bleeding a puddle
internaly screaming like thunder.
percing my body
like the percing screams
of the argument
that started it.
The next day, the pain was gone.
The anger had passed.
but the scars hadnt.
the blood hadnt.
Ive become what im against.
with the slit of the wrist
the pain struck.
like the blade struck.
I cut out of anger.
I cried out of gloom.
blood flowed from my wrist.
I dont know what i was thinking
maybe i wasnt thinking.
i wont do it again.
the pain hurt,
the blood stained
ive became what im against.
a cutter.
 
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